The End of Mercy
by Tonight's The Night
Summary: Sequel to "The End of Hope." After a brutal defeat on the Day of Black Sun, our heroes must find a new way to defeat the Fire Lord. But will they be able to defeat him before the comet arrives? Now Complete.
1. The Long Night

_Author's Note:_

_This story is the sequel to my previous story, _The End of Hope. _You could probably read this story without having read that one, but you will be very confused, and probably horrified by what's happened to all the characters. So, I highly recommend you read that story before starting this one._

_Also, I'll be changing the formatting of this story a little. I will now be giving a title to each chapter, and I will no longer announce the names of characters when the POV shifts. I have several reasons for this, the foremost being to reduce confusion, and the second to build suspense(because I'm sure the odd formatting in the last section of _The End of Hope _tipped some of you off to a twist)._

Chapter One

There was not a prison in the world that could hold Toph Bei Fong, and she knew it. The only question was how she was going to go about it with a Dai-Li agent stationed at her door every minute of the day.

"Your dinner," the agent sneered as he set the metal tray down on the floor and slid it under the bars. From what Toph could tell, this was the youngest member of the Dai-Li she'd ever encountered. No more than fifteen, probably closer to fourteen, given his quick temper and lack of discipline. _Probably got stuck on guard duty because no one trusts him guarding the royal family, _she thought, grinning. She slid over to the tray and retreating to the back of the cell with it. The smell of rice and dumplings filled her nose, a richer meal than a prisoner of war ought to expect. Toph suspected her status as an Earth Kingdom noble, minor though it was, afforded her some protection from the horrors of prison, some small measure of comfort. _Stupid of them. They're setting themselves up for failure._

Her guards didn't know that, of course. She'd been very careful not to metalbend in the presence of the enemy. Even when it could've helped her in the palace, she had refrained from metalbending, unwilling to display her secret technique in full view of the Fire Nation.

_It was futile, _she reminded herself for the thousandth time._ There were too many of them. Even if Katara hadn't been. . . There was no chance._

But now there was. She had memorized the guards' schedules in the two weeks she'd been here. She knew there would be a changing of the guards within the hour, now that they'd fed her dinner, knew that the mass of people gathered thirty floors down in the mess hall would soon don their uniforms for the night shift and wander to their posts. She knew she had to escape within this hour, before the more experienced guards replaced the fledgling Dai-Li brat who'd been charged with the evening shift.

She shoveled rice into her mouth and let the dumplings tumble half-chewed down her throat. When she was finished, she stood up and strode over to the iron bars. "Hey!" she yelled. "I've got to go to the bathroom!"

The older guard—an ordinary soldier staying within the Fire Nation due to a mild limp in his left leg—groaned in annoyance, while the young Dai-Li agent turned and faced her, freckled face glowing bright red. "You just had one an hour ago," he argued.

"And I need to go again." She stomped her foot and kicked the metal tray out from beneath the bars, holding back her metalbending in favor of brute force. The youth mumbled something incoherent and pulled his key ring out of his shirt pocket. Toph listened to the distinct jingles as his keys shifted, colliding with each other. With a sharp movement of her fist, she crushed the keys into a solid lump of brass and coiled the warped metal around the boy's wrist.

"What the hell?"

Toph felt the vibrations as the other guard jumped to his feet. She stomped with her left foot, focusing on the shards of earth contained within the metal into more solid particles. The floor rippled as the movement traveled across it. Half a second later, a coil of metal wrapped around the soldier's weak foot, pinning him in place. Toph did the same with the young boy, tripping him first so she could pin him down more thoroughly. She didn't _think _he was smart enough to realize what she'd done in time to retaliate, but she wasn't stupid enough to take the risk.

"Guards!" the kid squealed. _Yeah, that's right, go crying home to Mommy, _Toph thought, grabbing the bars of her cell and pulling. These were harder, made up of some durable alloy to create an inflexible cage. It took her almost ten seconds to bend the bars far enough to slip through, and by then, more guards were rushing toward her.

"Not today," she whispered, throwing herself against the wall and letting a thin layer of metal peel off and wrap around her body. Armored, she charged for the oncoming guards. Two of them took firebending stances, while the rest moved their various weapons to strike. Toph felt the heat of the fire tear through her makeshift armor, felt the beads of sweat forming between her skin and the hot metal. She used her metalbending to balloon out her armor, keeping a layer of air between her skin and the steel. The pocket of air didn't conduct heat as well as her malleable armor. Toph tackled one of the firebenders, running him down with the sheer speed of her assault, then continued down the narrow corridor, straight for the exterior wall.

She didn't even slow as she exploded through the metal wall and into the sulfur-scented air outside the prison.

* * *

><p>In the South Pole, there was a phenomena called the Long Night. It occurred every year, in the deepest part of winter, when the winds would howl and the snow would fall in thirty-foot drifts over any unprotected patch of permafrost. The Long Night was at once a sacred occurrence and a terrifying one, but for those who survived it, the sunrise that followed was the most beautiful sight in the world.<p>

Sokka remembered those sacred sunrises, the first brilliant streaks of crimson in the sky as the glowing orb rose from the horizon for the first time in days, shining for just a few minutes before descending again. Ever since he'd been old enough to remember these critical sunrises, some tiny fragment of optimism had formed in him, balancing out his natural pessimism. There would always be a Long Night in the South pole, but there would always be another sunrise.

As he stared through the open slot on the metal door of his cell, he wondered how long it would be before the sun rose for him. _Soon, _he told himself, a promise he'd been repeating over and over again since he'd regained consciousness in the medical ward. _Very soon. _

A female guard walked in front of his cell, pushing a cart full of food in front of her. Still wearing her helm, she picked up a metal tray and brought it closer. Sokka saw a small smile grace the woman's lips as she lifted a key to unlock the door. "Good morning, Cayenne," he greeted her, grinning with much more cheer than he felt.

Her smile widened, and she nodded back a greeting. "Sokka."

"What do we have for breakfast today?"

She handed him the metal tray, then set a small piece of chocolate pie on the edge, next to the first one. "Always thinking with your stomach, aren't you?"

He shrugged. "Hey, what if there's a prison riot? This could be my last meal."

Cayenne giggled, exactly the response he'd been going for. He'd always been a natural with the ladies, and while he'd met some resistance when he'd first arrived at the Boiling Rock, there were a few guards who'd taken to him.

"Have you heard anything about Suki?" he asked after a moment.

Cayenne lost her smile. Sokka had first run into Suki in the yard a few days ago, once he'd been declared healthy enough to leave the hospital ward. Their first meeting had consisted mostly of excited exclamations that drew too much attention from the guards. They'd exchanged tales of what had happened to each of them. Suki and the rest of her Kyoshi warriors had been ambushed by Azula's band prior to the fall of Ba Sing Se, after helping Appa(separated from their own party at the time) recover from a nasty scuffle. In response to her tale, Sokka had told her about getting separated from Katara after Aang had been killed, and his subsequent training with Zuko's old sword master, Piandao.

He made no mention of Ty Lee except that she'd defected from Azula's group since attacking the Kyoshi warriors, and that she was likely dead after the failed invasion attempt.

Cayenne spoke, dragging him back to the cold reality of the prison cell. "She's the same as usual."

"Still in isolation?" He tried to keep the worry out of his tone. The guards liked his sarcasm, not his emotion.

Cayenne shrugged. "She tried to stab another inmate. There's nowhere else for her to go."

He nodded slowly, letting the words wash over him like cool water. "For how much longer?"

"Well, it's her first offense, so probably only a few more days."

"Okay. Thanks for the pie, Cayenne."

The guard smiled again, a faint flush seeping into her cheeks. "Anything for you, Sokka." She waved and closed the door, moving on to the next cell. Sokka sat down with his tray and began eating, finishing off one slice of pie before digging into the rice and vegetables on the tray. They were spicier than he was used to, but bland by Fire Nation standards.

He missed his sister's cooking more than he could've possibly imagined.

He missed the first sunrise after the Long Night.

He missed the fleeting feeling he'd gotten in his chest when Ty Lee had kissed him on the island.

_The sun must rise again, _he told himself. _The sun must always rise, no matter how long or cold the night. _


	2. In the Fire Nation

Chapter Two

The first thing Katara became aware of were the voices.

" . . . recovering at an astonishing rate. Even in cases where we've had immediate access to medical care, this kind of recovery is unprecedented."

"The reports said she was skilled in healing," someone else said. The walls muffled the voices, keeping her from really thinking about either, but from their words, she guessed they were doctors. "Perhaps she had access to water before we got to her."

The man who'd spoken first huffed. "Impossible. All the witnesses said she was unconscious the moment the lightning struck her."

"Maybe she's just lucky," said the second voice, drawing closer to where she lay now. Katara could tell this speaker was female, but from the clear tone, the woman could've been anywhere between twenty and fifty. Adult, but not elderly. "So long as she's alive. She'll make a valuable war prisoner."

_War prisoner, _Katara thought, sickened. Her whole body felt heavy, as if smothered by a blanket. Thick straps of leather bound her wrists to the edge of the bed, but even if they hadn't been holding her down, she doubted she'd have been able to move through the fog in her mind.

Memories returned to her as she processed the doctors' conversation. She remembered the bright blue flash, the searing agony lancing through her chest. Zuko had darted out in front of her, hand extended as if to redirect the lightning, but the Dai-Li had intervened before he could, and instead of being redirected, the lightning had struck her heart. A wave of darkness had overcome her then, numbing the pain while some other force worked inside her body. She tried to call back exactly what she'd done, but all she remembered was feeling the energy follow the path of her circulatory system.

_Following the blood like it follows the water, _she thought, knowing the similarity was significant somehow, but unable to reason through it. Her eyes drifted open, revealing a bunch of hazy outlines and bland colors. The sunlight streaming in through the skylight stabbed at her eyes, forcing them shut. She took a painful breath.

The voices were closer now. "Do you think either of the water tribes will come to her aid? She's one girl. How much good is she to them?"

The man's voice pierced the air as the door swung open. "Do not underestimate this girl. She almost killed the princess."

_Almost? Well, damn. _Katara feigned sleep a moment longer, allowing the doctors to check her pulse and bandages. Her body stiffened for a moment at the unfamiliar hands—she had only ever let one person touch her breasts, and she'd intended to keep it that way—but forced herself to relax, knowing the doctors would likely notice her response. With as little information as she had to go on, it was best not to give them anything more than absolutely necessary.

"Her vitals are stable, and the restraints are holding," the man said after his brief inspection. "She'll be no trouble for now."

_Why am I here? _Katara wondered. _Why did they take me to the hospital if they intend to keep me prisoner? _She had seldom seen the compassionate side of the Fire Nation. Their brutal politics killed most seeds of empathy early on, sparing little kindness. Such emotions had been valued in the water tribes, but here, it seemed as if acts of mercy were considered displays of weakness. The train of thought led her to think of Zuko, of how he'd received his scar. _No mercy, not even to their own. So why am I still alive?_

* * *

><p>"What do you want from me?" Aang growled, taking an offensive stance in spite of his weakened body. He'd never gone so many days without food before, nor scraped by on such meager rations.<p>

The Fire Lord grinned again, a sadistic smile. "I have a job for you."

"Not interested." He moved as if he still had his glider with him, facing his enemy.

"What a shame. I rather believed you'd want a reprieve from this cell. Or maybe some food would be more to your liking." Aang tensed, but couldn't suppress the mournful growl of his stomach. _I can expect no mercy here, _he reminded himself, thinking of the days that had gone by without food, or fresh clothes, or a bath. The only luxury in his steel cell was the bucket keeping his own waste from running free across the floor, and he suspected that was just as much a luxury for the guards as for him. "I'm not interested," he repeated.

Fire Lord Ozai smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh come now, surely you must have _some_ interest in making a deal."

"No."

The golden-eyed man switched tactics, losing his smile. "You do realize the degree of courtesy we've afforded you since your arrival here, don't you? The mere fact that the guards are not permitted to beat you into submission as they do the other prisoners is an order from none other than myself. But if you'd prefer, I can rearrange that."

A shiver ran down his back. _No, he's lying. He must be, if he's even considering getting me out of here._

_I'm the Avatar. The Avatar shouldn't be scared. The Avatar should be able to face up to anything and resolve the conflict. _But he _was _scared, more than he'd ever been. From what little he'd learned from Toph about sensing things around him, he knew that sometimes, prisoners _did _get beaten into submission, at least in this prison. _He can't mean it. If someone kills me, I'll just be reincarnated into the water tribes. _

_And what threat would you present to him then? The new Avatar will need time to grow up, and by then, Sozin's comet will have come and gone, and they will have wiped out the water tribes and the Earth Kingdom. _The thought chilled him even more, but he refused to show it. "You wouldn't dare."

The Fire Lord lost his patience, snatching the front of Aang's curly hair. It had grown out since the fight at the catacombs, concealing the arrow tattoo on his head, but malnourishment had kept the hair from growing healthy. Several strands ripped out between the monster's fingers before he got a good grip. Aang felt the savage tongues of fire licking at the crown of his head. "I do not make empty threats, Avatar. You _will _do as I say, or I will have you slaughtered like a pig, reincarnation be damned."

_Death would be a mercy, _he thought. Instantly, he regretted thinking it. Even if everyone thought he was dead, there were still people he had to go back to. Sokka would need him for the invasion plan, if the Day of Black Sun hadn't happened already, and he still needed Toph to teach him more earthbending so he could hold his own against the Fire Lord. Someone would need to teach him firebending as well. And Katara . . . The thought of her seeing him alive for the first time, and running up to embrace him, a smile on her face . . .

_That's assuming she didn't die after Azula captured her,_ some dark part of his mind thought. He shoved the notion away. _I shouldn't think like that. Of course she escaped. We break out, no matter the odds. That's how it's always been._

_It doesn't seem to be working here, _the cynical voice muttered.

_The Fire Nation knew what lengths to take to contain me. They'll underestimate Katara, they'll . . . She must have gotten away._

"So, what's it going to be, Avatar?"

_I have to get out of here, _he thought. _I have to see Katara again. _He looked up, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he hesitated. _If I don't go now, I may lose my only chance to find the others. Even if whatever Ozai wants from me puts people in danger, I might stand a chance at ending this war. If I escape. If I can defeat the Fire Lord before the comet. _

The Fire Lord was not a patient man. His fingers, muscular just like every other part of his body, tightened around the limp curls of Aang's hair, ripping them out by the roots. Embers flew from the golden-eyed man's fingertips, landing on Aang's forehead and searing his skin wherever they touched. Every second Aang stood without answering added to the pain.

His eyes dropped to the filthy floor beneath him. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "What do you need me to do?"


	3. Dreams of the Dead

Chapter Three

Azula dreamed.

At first, the dreams were senseless, framed in a dark fog. People in white uniforms reached out to her, their hands sickly pale even against the sky blue of their gowns. A light pressure around her midsection almost jolted her into awareness, but before the pain made her resurface, one of the pale hands moved near her nose with a bowl full of ground herbs. A sweet smell filled her nostrils, like the cloying taste of some Earth Kingdom pastries, and the pain went away.

"She's bleeding out!" one of the white figures yelled, not in panic, but in command, as if the words held some deeper meaning than the obvious.

"Get her to the infirmary _now_," another said, this one higher pitched, but still in control.

"Don't worry, Princess. Everything will be okay."

_This _voice she recognized, though it took her a moment to place it. Once, she might have attributed the soft alto voice to her mother. _That was years ago, before she was banished, _some part of her thought, still working logically despite her surreal surroundings. But it wasn't her mother this time. It was her handmaid, Tazia.

As a member of the royal family, it would be unseemly to show gratitude to a woman of such low rank, particularly one in her own service. With who she was, it should've been outright impossible to acknowledge anything her servants did as helpful. It was what was expected of them, no more. But there was a part of her that was relieved. _Someone cares. Someone cares that I'm hurt. _

The shadows took up most of her field of vision. She couldn't even see the white hands moving over her bloody body anymore. _I'll just rest, _she thought. _Just for a little bit._

The darkness overtook her for a time. Senseless snippets of information flitted through her mind, mostly faces and words from long ago. Her mother and a younger Zuko perched over the turtle-duck pond while she watched from afar. Her father displaying one of his rare, genuine smiles on Ember Island, years ago. An Earth Kingdom doll, sent to her as a present from the war, burning in her hands . . .

"Even then, you liked to play with fire."

Azula turned, not aware until she did so that she had a body. She spoke one word as she recognized the speaker. "Mai."

"And me, too," chimed another voice. Azula looked over to see Ty Lee. She wore her usual pink garb, and instead of the short tufts of hair she'd sported before betraying the Fire Nation, her hair was tied up in a long braid. Her smile was so chipper and natural that Azula forgot she was a traitor, that she was in a prison somewhere else in the Fire Nation. "It's good to see you again, Azula."

_Good to see me . . . _she thought, looking between the two girls. Ty Lee continued grinning at her, her grey eyes alight with excitement. Mai didn't smile, but her features weren't as tense as they usually were. _Like a calm sea, before the tides change._

"What are you both doing here?" she asked.

Ty Lee's smile turned sad, and Mai's bored features shifted to show a grim expression. "We've come to take you away," the acrobat said.

"Away to where?"

They each took one of her hands. Azula found herself pulling away from their grasp. She didn't take orders from anyone. "Take me away to _where_?"

"To where the spirits walk," Ty Lee said.

The firebender ripped her hand free. "I won't go. My coronation is only days away; I have no time for a day trip."

"It's not a day trip," Mai told her, her deceptively delicate fingers tightening around Azula's palm. This time, the princess struggled to break the other girl's hold. "You're staying there."

"I won't go!"

"You will."

"I don't take orders from anyone, least of all a couple of traitors." _Remember. You have to remember who they are. Who you are._

"Azula," a new voice interrupted. Her friends vanished into a hazy white fog. Azula turned to the new speaker, shoulders tense as she recognized the voice.

"Mother, what are you doing here?"

Tears ran down the dark-haired woman's face. She wiped them away with the elegant sleeve of her cloak. "My daughter . . . It pains me so greatly to see you suffer so. Won't you join Mai and I in the Spirit World?"

_Spirit World? Impossible. That place is nothing but a myth. And my mother's not dead, she's just banished. She can't be dead, Father said so . . . _"No."

Ursa extended one hand. "Come, dear daughter, and you will never have to feel the pain of your wounds again."

"I'm not in pain," she snapped.

"You are. The fight, remember?"

Flashes of her battle in the palace flitted through her mind. The feeling of ice against her skin, the instinctive drive to flee when the earth rumbled beneath her, the disorientation the eclipse had caused her . . . And the cramps brought on by her moon blood.

"You are a maiden flowered, my child, but you needn't bear the pain of another day. There are a great many places to go in the Spirit World. You may like it."

"No! I won't go. You can't make me."

Her mother smiled sadly. _The same smile she gave to Zuko whenever he ran off crying, _Azula thought, hands coiling into fists at her side. _The smile she never gave me. _"Azula, sweetie—"

"Don't call me that!" she exploded, taking a step back. "You're nothing to me. You abandoned me here in the capital. If you wanted me to go with you so much, you should've taken me with you!"

"It was not safe. Too many people would've wished you dead."

Unbidden, she saw the face of that waterbender she'd battled. The fury there, the deep hatred in her eyes. _Everyone wants me dead now, after all. I ought to live just to spite them. _"I wish you were dead. _Really _dead this time, not just banished. Father was too soft on you. He should've taught you a lesson." _Like he taught me. _She remembered the sting of a palm smashing against her face, the brutal ache of black bruises the day after.

"His lessons are not kind."

"Kindness is for the weak. If I am to rule, my subjects must fear and respect me."

"Leaders who rule by fear often find themselves in grave peril within their own walls."

Azula lifted a hand to strike the woman, the fire coming readily to her fingertips. Just as her fist would've made contact, her mother's image vanished, shattering like a mirror. "I will not be ordered around by a traitor," she growled, wishing her mother was still around to hear her.

Without warning, the dream shifted. Now she was in her room, watching as Ty Lee laid a piece of parchment on the foot of her bed. This must've been the kind of dream where one watched themselves from outside, because the girl with her face slept without stirring. This was the night of Ty Lee's betrayal.

She remembered the words engraved on the parchment perfectly. _"I'm joining whatever may be left of the Avatar's group," _Ty Lee had written. _"I will fight you, Azula, not out of malice, nor out of duty. I will fight you because, when I run away from here, that will be the only choice I have left."_

"I gave you a choice," she whispered. Ty Lee stared at the folded up piece of parchment a moment longer, giving no indication she'd heard. "I gave you the choice to be loyal, to follow me to the bitter end, and you chose to toss me aside like I was worthless. I'm glad you're in prison."

"_I know the consequences of this treachery. I know it will cost me dearly. I know I'm destroying our friendship, and I regret it."_

"No you don't. You couldn't have regretted it, otherwise you never would've . . ." A quick breath slipped through her teeth, and she struggled a moment for control.

"_There's no place for me at your side."_

Her control wavered again. "Your only place was at my side. You were supposed to be loyal to me. You were supposed to . . ." Azula took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Even in her dreams, it was shameful to show such weakness.

_I can endure any pain in the world, but I refuse to endure that shame. I am not Zuko. _The dream shifted to the Agni-Kai, the one between her brother and her father. In the crowd, she grinned fiercely. The scarring, and the banishment of her brother, assured her a place as the next Fire Lord. But even as she giddily sat down to watch her father wipe away Zuko's place, some part of her recoiled from the violence. For a fraction of a second, it was her on the receiving end of the fireball, not Zuko. For just that brief moment, she knew what it was like to have her face erased by the heat of the flames. The agony was unlike any she'd ever experienced.

A moment later, she was in the audience, watching the fight unfold just as it had the first time. The only difference was that this time, she wasn't smiling.

She was sobbing.


	4. Pai Sho

Chapter Four

"I've been thinking . . ."

Sokka glanced up from the pebble he'd been kicking to look at Suki. In the Boiling Rock, there was little to occupy someone from the Southern Water Tribe. Most of the recreational activities were either games found almost exclusively in the Fire Nation, and the few inmates that were willing to open up to a boy from the Southern Water Tribe wouldn't speak to him in the presence of so many others. _I only have Suki here, _he thought. "Thinking about what?"

The girl's grey eyes flashed over to the nearest guard. He was lounging up against the innermost fence, arms crossed, watching over the yard. Wearing a spiky helmet, there was no way to tell if the guard was attentive or disinterested.

Suki's voice dropped to a whisper. "The Warden said no one's ever escaped this prison."

He nodded. Cayenne had told him that once, when she'd delivered him his lunch. "Yeah."

Suki's eyes flashed to a nearby guard as they walked passed. This one was looking around, scanning every inch of the yard through the narrow eye holes of his helmet. "Hey, you want to play some Pai Sho with me?" she asked suddenly. "There's an open board over there."

Master Piandao had taught him a little Pai Sho during his sword training, but Sokka had never managed to beat the sword master, despite the odd techniques and weak pieces he used. The memory made him miss his Space Sword. _I hope Katara picked it up after I was captured, _he thought, sitting down across from Suki. _I hope they were able to go through with the invasion plan._

Something about the whole thing bugged him. Even in a strictly controlled prison, there should've been some indication of his friends' success or failure. If there had been a major upheaval in the Capital, the prison system surely would've been changed, or at least inspected. The fact that it hadn't either meant they'd forgone the plan altogether, or that they'd failed.

Suki started setting up her tiles, keeping her eyes on the board. "Sokka," she said quietly. "We have to make a plan."

"Yes, it is a very good game," he said loudly, turning his head slightly so the guard would hear his harmless comment.

"These pieces are so pretty," Suki said, giving him a meaningful look. "I wonder what they meant to the creator of the game."

Sokka arched one eyebrow, smiling. _So we're assigning meaning to the tiles. Good plan, Suki. _He picked up a tile with a bird on it and placed it directly in the center of the board. "I wish we could fly away and be free, like this bird," he said, trying to convey the real meaning of the tile with his eyes.

Her eyes darted to the guard, then back to the game board. She placed another tile beneath his. The pattern on this one was similar to the symbol of the Earth Kingdom, but not as refined. _The Boiling Rock? _he wondered, moving his bird diagonally across the board so the tile sat in Suki's territory. She nodded and moved a piece etched with a wave symbol between the rock and the bird. He moved a piece with a fire emblem right beside it.

The game went on several minutes as they each clumsily communicated their meaning with the tiles. When Suki moved an ice tile into the middle of the boiling lake, he looked at her in confusion.

"Hey, did you hear? Brek got tossed in the cooler the other day."

_What are you trying to tell me, Suki? _"For what?"

She bit her lip, considering her words carefully. "For firebending. Apparently, they needed to cool him down."

"Oh." He looked down at the board again. _Does she mean we should make a boat with one of the coolers? _"_How_ is he doing?"

"I don't know—_how_—he's doing. But I bet it's cold in there."

He nodded, eyes dropping to the board again as he puzzled through her meaning. _It's an idea, _he thought. _If the coolers can maintain such low temperatures here on a tropical island, they must be heavily insulated. If we were to use one as a boat, we could reach the shore across the lake and . . . And what? Swim across the ocean? _"I wonder how he's going to feel _later_," Sokka said, moving the ice tile across the board where the bird was.

Her nose wrinkled. After a moment, she shrugged.

_I'll have to think about that one. _The whistle blew, a shrill sound that announced their forced return to their quarters. "We should play again tomorrow, when we have more time," he said carefully.

She nodded, returning to her normal self. "Sounds like a good plan."

"Hurry it up, lovebirds," one of the guards growled, coming toward them with a blunt stick that Sokka guessed was for prodding prisoners without injuring them.

"Sorry sir," he said quickly, raising his hands in an apologetic gesture. Suki hurried off to the appropriate door, glancing back once before retreating inside. When she was gone, Sokka followed the line of Fire Nation criminals into the prison and went to his cell, waiting for Cayenne to come by and unlock it.

"Enjoy your Pai Sho game?" she asked, smiling. Sokka stiffened.

"Uh . . . Yeah. It was fun. Great game."

"That's good. I'm glad to see that girl is staying out of trouble."

Sokka nodded, trying his best to smile back. He'd been told he'd had a charming smile, but this one felt mangled and broken on his face. "Yeah, that's Suki. Learns real fast from her mistakes. Won't be causing any more trouble, I'm sure."

Cayenne grinned and stepped out the door again. "Of course she wouldn't." The door closed, shutting off all sounds from outside. Sokka pressed his ear to the wall. When he heard nothing but the low rumble of inmates returning to their cells, he slid to the floor. "Damn it." _She knows. That's why she smiled. She knows what's going on. Damn it all._

It was several minutes before he managed to stand up. If Cayenne knew—if she even suspected—that he was planning a breakout, the Warden's guards would descend on him like a club. _I'll be put in the cooler. Or Suki will. Except we don't have the tools to get out, or know how to adapt the cooler into a boat. We need more time. _He paced the length of his cell, fingers twining together. Even Cayenne, the kindest Fire Nation guard he'd ever met, wouldn't allow this to go unpunished.

He kept pacing, waiting for a team of guards to invade his cell and drag him away. When minutes turned into hours, he began to wonder if his own paranoia had caused him to misinterpret Cayenne's words. Perhaps she'd just been complimenting Suki's swift return to obedience after all. _Maybe . . . _he thought, turning when he reached the far end of his cell. _It was just an innocent game of Pai Sho, after all. They can't prove anything by it. _

He reached the door and turned again, moving his hands behind his back and twisting his fingers together. _Even if someone went to the Warden with that . . . He's suspicious, but inmates play Pai Sho every day. Someone would have to present a pretty solid case to get him to believe it was anything more than an innocuous board game. _

Sokka forced himself to sit down for a moment, to relieve his feet. Before a single minute passed, he was standing up again, walking the length of his cell. A single, barred window shed a square of light onto the floor. The cement was spotless. All inmates were required to keep their cells in perfect order, or they got sent to the cooler. _If I could get the tools, that'd be the perfect way to get in and disassemble the thing from inside. But I've got almost nothing to work with here. It's not like I can start taking apart my bed without having them notice. _

_Think, Sokka. You're supposed to be the idea guy. What do you have that you can use as a tool? There must be something the guards won't miss. _But the furnishings of his cell were so scanty. Secure prisons like this didn't allow prisoners to have any personal items beyond a toothbrush and other grooming products. _A razor, maybe? I could get something from the prison canteen. It would only take a couple days of prison work. _All inmates got paid for doing extra work, given that they could be cheaply employed, unlike the guards. A bronze piece for three or four hours of work, depending on the job. _Not much, but things are cheap at the canteen. But what could I buy there that I could use to escape.?_

He sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He'd only been to the little shop twice, the first to get a toothbrush and razor, since he hadn't brought one of his own, and the second time to buy some fire flakes. He couldn't remember how broad the selection was. _They wouldn't sell anything likely to be used for escape anyway, _he thought, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Suddenly, he heard metal sliding against metal, just outside his door. He jumped to his feet, reacting to the threat like any warrior before he remembered the position he was in. _I can't do anything. If I get into trouble, the guards are going to think I'm planning something, and I'll never get out of here. _His arms went limp, and he sat back down, waiting for the guards to storm in with handcuffs.

"Dinnertime!" Cayenne called. The word sent an odd pang through Sokka. _Dinnertime? I'm not being put in isolation?_ The female guard strolled in, carrying his tray out in front of her. Like the other night, she'd managed to sneak an extra slice of pie onto his plate. "Hey, you're usually waiting at the door for this stuff," she said, setting the tray down on the ledge.

"I guess I forgot," he said quietly, trying to smile. "Thanks for the pie."

"Anytime." She retreated out the door, leaving him with his dinner. Sokka took the tray back to his bed and started eating the first slice of pie. Since Cayenne did most of the food delivery, he wasn't too worried about anyone noticing the extra plate or the extra spoon he'd be returning, though the thought always crossed his mind.

An idea struck him like a firebender's lightning, and his fingers froze around the metal spoon. _They're only ever expecting one utensil back, _he thought, unable to take his eyes off the round piece of steel. His mind raced, the food in front of him all but forgotten.

Sokka grinned for real for the first time in weeks. He knew how he was getting out of here.


	5. Fire Nation Hospitals

Chapter Five

The princess looked almost docile, lying on the hospital bed in her white gown. Aang watched the doctors come and go, checking her pulse, listening to her breathing, sponging up the blood that dripped from the corner of her mouth.

"_I want you to heal her," _Ozai had said, folding his hands behind his back as they'd peered through the cloth curtain that concealed his daughter. _"You've mastered waterbending, yes?"_

"_I have," _he'd said—the exact opposite of what he should have said, which was that he'd only mastered half the skills it took to be a true waterbending master. But since Katara had already been a natural at healing, he'd assumed the extra training was superfluous.

The Fire Lord had given him a curt nod and strode out of the hospital ward, escorted by half a dozen of his royal guards. The other six stood at various points in the room, their eyes unerringly focused on him as he sat down in front of the bowl of water.

_This might be my only chance to escape, _he thought, his gaze flitting about the room as he took in the impassive faces of each guard. Ozai had given them permission to use lethal force before he'd left. _One misstep and I'm dead. They'll notice right away if I try anything tricky with the water. No, I have to get on their good side. _He tried to call to mind something that might make them smile or laugh—he was just barely thirteen, if the date he'd seen scrawled on the chalkboard outside had been correct. He could pull off a couple jokes. But after so long in captivity, nothing came to mind. Even when he tried to call back some of Sokka's more amusing jokes, the words sounded flat in his own mind.

_There's nothing I can do here,_ he thought, distressed. _I don't know how to heal, and I can't risk showing them airbending tricks when they'd only see it as a threat. I'm supposed to be the Avatar, and I can't do anything. _He groaned in frustration, letting his head fall into his hands.

"I can't do this," he murmured. He half-expected one of the guards to reply, accuse him of deceiving the Fire Lord, but none of them spoke. He closed his eyes. _What would Katara do? _he asked himself, since she was the first person to jump to his mind. During his imprisonment, he'd thought about her every day, tried to imagine her escape from Azula in Ba Sing Se. Because of course she'd gotten away.

Hadn't she?

Aang tried to focus. _No matter who it was, Katara would've healed them. And not just because she wanted to escape, but because it's the right thing to do._

_But this is my _enemy_. If _she _doesn't fall, the Fire Nation won't fall. This isn't like killing her; she's already hurt so badly. As long as I looked like I was trying, they'd believe it. Yes, that would work._

_And when she dies? _part of him demanded. _What if you could've healed her? Even if she's a monster . . . Leaving her to die like this is, when there's a chance you could've saved her . . . That would be almost as bad as killing her with your own hands._

_Okay. So what would Sokka do?_

Aang winced at the possibilities. Sokka was not brutal, but he _was _practical. Even if he had the ability to heal Azula, he would acknowledge her status as and enemy and turn his attention to escaping. Aang doubted he'd be able to think of a plan before the guards got impatient, or his patient expired.

_And Toph would do the same thing, except she'd just pull the floor up and make a suit of armor for herself so she could fight her way out. So . . . What would my past lives have done? _Immediately, he was assaulted with dozens of different ideas, all echoing around in his head as they fought for dominance. Hundreds of different Avatars in dozens of different eras from four separate, evolving nations . . . It was too much to think about in hours, let alone the few minutes he'd have before the guards grew impatient and commanded him to start healing. _And I can't even do that._

But he had told the Fire Lord he could, or at least implied it. And if he didn't do _something_, his observers would begin to suspect he'd lied. _And then I'll be put back in that cell until I'm old and wrinkled. Or until the war is over. _He shuddered, imagining what they might do to him then, once the threat of his eventual reincarnation was downgraded to a minor problem. _In a world oppressed by the Fire Nation . . . There would be nothing the new Avatar could do. Even if they managed to master all four elements, the war will have already been lost. By that point, the people will have no hope._

_That is, if the Fire Nation even lets the new Avatar live long enough to master the four elements. _

Aang shook his head to clear it. _I shouldn't be thinking about this. I should be trying to get away. But how can I do that when the royal guards are watching my every move? _He thought of the flames biting at his flesh, the searing agony of his nerves being fried under the flames. His defeat at the catacombs had been a brutal one. Azula had burned his glider, leaving it nothing more than a skeleton, but she had also burned him. A long scar wrapped around his torso and coiled up around his neck. The agony had been so intense, he'd passed out.

He had woken up in his cell with the minimal amount of medical care required to keep him alive. Even then, it had been days before he'd been able to sit up without horrible pain.

He stared at the bowl of water in front of him. It was such a meager amount—about what he could drink with his throat as parched as it was. His eyes flashed to the princess's face, slackened in her unnatural sleep.

If he didn't try to heal her, it would be as if he'd killed her himself. But if he did, and failed, the Fire Lord might execute him.

Aang dipped his hands in the water and moved them over Azula's broken body.

* * *

><p>For the third time since she'd come to, Katara feigned sleep for the doctors.<p>

"Still stable," reported the doctor who'd been tending to her the past two days. It had taken her a few times to get used to his voice, but she recognized it now, as his fingers probed along the edges of her bandages. "Kallen, bring me fresh bandages for this patient, please."

"Yes doctor." There was a sound of footsteps moving across the floor, then the rustling of medical supplies. Katara kept her eyes closed, her features relaxed. _Better if they don't know I'm healing myself._

She'd remembered enough to start repairing the damage. At first, her electricity-fried brain had struggled to recall basic information. Things that should've been clear were constantly slipping away from her, and it had taken every bit of her concentration to remember to lie still when the doctors came. But as the days came and went—three or four, judging from the conversations around her—little facts had been returning to her.

_My name is Katara,_ she thought, starting from the most basic and working toward the finer details. _I am a waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe. I became a waterbending master in the Northern Water Tribe. I have a brother named Sokka who may or may not be alive. I have friends who probably think I'm dead. Their names are Toph, Ty Lee, Iroh, and Zuko. Zuko is special to me._

_Aang is dead. He was the Avatar. He is probably a baby somewhere in the North Pole by now. _

_I can manipulate blood like water. It's slightly more difficult. I can heal. I am healing, much faster than the doctors predicted. _Yes, that was the piece of information she was looking for. Blood was harder to sense than the clear liquid she was familiar with, but she could definitely feel the push and pull within her own body, moving in time with her heartbeat. The first day after she'd remembered she could bend blood, it had taken her almost an hour to wrap her mind around the peculiar sensation. But now she had control of it.

_Follow the circulatory system. Repair damage as you go. Don't focus too much on your heart, or it'll start beating weird again. Breathe. Repeat. _That was how it was done. For right now, that was about the longest string of words she could remember at a time. That bolt of lightning had damaged more than just her body. But because she could remember the words, she forced her mind to repeat them over and over, drawing the paths of energy toward the blood and using the liquid to heal her wounds at the faster rate. She kept thinking the words until the syllables lost meaning to her, then forced herself to reexamine the mantra to make sure she was doing everything right. And when she wasn't thinking about those things, she was trying to recall the fragmented memories from before.

_My name is Katara. I am a waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe . . . _Details flitted away from her, insects fleeing from the light, but she did her best to remember as much as she could. _. . . Aang is dead. He was the Avatar. He is probably a baby somewhere in the North Pole by now . . . _Katara had to repress the urge to shudder whenever that thought crossed her mind. Even in her foggy mindset, she could picture his face. The playful grey eyes, the constant smile, the bright laugh . . . The brilliant glow of his tattoos when he entered the Avatar State, the tears in his eyes when he remembered he was the last airbender, the last, fleeting look he'd given her before she'd been taken captive in the Crystal Catacombs.

_. . . I can heal. I am healing much faster than the doctors predicted . . ._

_. . . I am strong enough to leave this place._

_Author's Note_

_I know, I know. You're all wondering where Zuko, Ty Lee, and everyone else is. Don't worry. I'm going to write about them soon. I'm trying to tell this story more or less chronologically, and more has happened with the other characters since the failed invasion, so they have more POV sections right now. _


	6. In the Silence

Chapter Six

Zuko gritted his teeth as the fist smashed into his abdomen. After three days in captivity, the pain was familiar. Still, focusing on the black bruises and blood-spotted marks was less painful than reliving the last moments of Katara's life.

"Where are the rest of the rebel forces?" the guard demanded, bringing one armored fist across Zuko's face hard enough to send sparks of pain up his jaw.

"I don't know," he growled.

The fist came from the other side this time. "Where are the rebels?" the man demanded again. It was the same question, in all its variations, over and over. Like they were trying to chip away at his willpower by convincing him things would get better after he answered this one question.

"I don't know," Zuko repeated, the same response he'd been giving for hours now. This earned him a slap across the face—not quite as painful as a punch, but more degrading.

"Bullshit. Where are the rebels?"

_Dead or imprisoned, _he thought, closing his eyes. Faces flashed through his mind almost as fast as he could identify them—Toph, Sokka, Katara, Ty Lee, Momo, Katara, Appa, Uncle, Katara . . . Toph with her features twisted into a scowl as the Dai-Li pinned her down in the palace; Sokka lifting a wooden practice sword to spar with him at Piandao's castle; Katara healing him in the cave after they'd escaped Azula's ship; Katara looking up at him with sapphire eyes from her cot at the healer's house; Katara, her face softening as she unfroze the ice that trapped Azula.

_Merciful to the end, _Zuko thought, wincing as the blue bolt shattered the memory. For a moment, he imagined he'd sidestepped the Dai-Li's rock fists and redirected the lightning in time. And then that was gone, and he remembered Katara was dead.

"Answer me!" the guard shouted, throwing a kick to his shin. Zuko went down automatically, biting back a whimper. If there was one good thing he'd learned from growing up in the Fire Nation, it was to never give the enemy the satisfaction of hearing you scream. His whimper turned into a snarl.

"I don't _know_."

Because he was lower to the ground, his tormentor kicked him in the head. He took the hit, a puff of fire shooting out from his nostrils.

"Where are the rebels?"

"I don't know."

A hand coiled around the blood-crusted fabric of his shirt. "You know."

"I don't."

The guard's other hand smashed into his cheekbone. The blow was pitifully weak compared to others he'd suffered; it served only to stoke the flames burning him up inside. He lunged forward, his forehead smashing into the guard's nose. Blood spattered across the side of his face—not for the first time, but at least this was someone else's blood.

Momentum carried him forward, and he tackled the guard who'd been beating him. The _thud_ of the impact was a symphony to his ears. "Why don't you ask again?" he whispered into the guard's ear. "See if I don't give you a scar to match mine."

Two other guards rushed in from the cell door. They snatched him by the arms and thrust him into the wall. The impact split his lip. They added another set of metal restraints—they couldn't tie a firebender up with plain rope, after all—around his legs, to keep him from walking.

"Let him rot here," his tormentor snarled. The pitch of his voice had changed when Zuko had shattered his nose. "Isolation will break him eventually."

The other two guards threw him onto his cot and walked out with their leader. The cell door slammed shut with a sound of finality.

* * *

><p>Toph didn't stop until she hit water.<p>

The air around her had cooled, and condensation was beginning to form on the inside of her makeshift armor, from her breath. From the cooler temperature, she guessed it was night again. _I've been running for an entire day, _she thought, grinning widely though no one was there to see it. Normally, she didn't bother much with such expressions. It had taken her a long time to grow sensitive enough to sense the minor muscle twitches that signaled a change in one's face, and even longer to decipher the complex codes behind them. When she showed emotion, it was either deliberate, or exaggerated.

This time, though, she smiled for her own benefit. _Free at last, _she thought, peeling off her metal suit with a quick movement of her arms and falling backwards onto the soft sand. She could sense the shifting granules better now, form a clearer picture in her mind. Her solitary training on the beach had paid off.

No one had followed her. She was sure of that. Tearing through the countryside as long as she had, she'd developed a detailed picture of her surroundings. The space beyond the prison was mostly devoid of human life, and the few people that lived in the area were scattered, their properties rural in the extreme. If anyone had followed her from the prison, they'd almost certainly lost the trail by now.

_I'm not safe, but this is as close as I'm going to get for now. _She sighed and slammed the side of her fist into the sand. The fine granules condensed and hardened, turning to rock. Toph rolled over onto the stone slab and closed her blind eyes. Though she was proud she'd stayed awake so long, her whole body protested against the thought of getting up. _I'll just rest here awhile. I can think of a plan in the morning._

Sleep didn't come easy. Even with the waves washing up over the edge of the beach, the night was almost silent. Her noisy arrival had startled all the native animals, but it was more than that. She was used to the sound of breathing bodies beside her, used to Sokka's soft snoring and, more recently, Zuko's constant tossing and turning. Even in her prison cell, she'd heard the comforting sound of other inmates, breathing in sync with her.

But here it was quiet. Here, her only companions were the rushing waters that terrified her and the few animals that had chosen to cower instead of flee. Here, she was, for the first time in her life, truly alone.

"Don't be such a child," she muttered to herself. Still, the absence of her friends pressed down on her eardrums, like her ears were filled with lead. She curled up in a tight ball, the battle flashing through her mind. She remembered hearing the crash of thunder, remembered feeling the vibrations when Katara hit the ground. Everything had gone to pieces then, and Toph had been unable to fight off even the stone hands of her own element.

_Weak. I was just weak. _She rolled over, bringing two stone walls up from the sand to form a tent over herself. _Next time they come at me, I'll wrap them up in metal. _

Another battle flashed through her mind, just as painful, but more distant. She'd been with Sokka at the Crystal Catacombs, underneath Ba Sing Se, right before the battle had gone sour. She remembered Sokka's thin gasp, the radiant heat against her skin . . .

The sudden silence that followed.

"Ugh," she grumbled, rolling again so she was on her back. "Come on, I'm exhausted."

Something continued to nag at her. It was more than the abrupt end to the sound. Except for the roar of the fire, there had _been _no sound. No screams. _There should've been, _she thought. _If he was still alive when they burned him. And Azula wouldn't have wasted time torching his corpse, unless she was trying to make it unrecognizable. And she would only do that if she wanted to divert suspicion from herself. But that would only make sense if . . ._

Toph sat up, her head hitting the stone ceiling. But she couldn't focus on that because her mind was busy processing everything."Shit," she muttered, crawling out of her makeshift shelter. "_Shit_."

_That would've been the perfect way to get him to the Fire Nation without having anyone track him down, _she thought, clamping her hands over her ears in frustration._ Azula was trying to make us believe Aang was dead so we wouldn't go off rescuing him. Shit. _Her hands coiled into fists. Through her fury, it took her a moment to realize the ramifications of her discovery. When she did, her whole body went numb. "Oh man, Aang's not dead . . ."


	7. Simple Tools

_Author's Note:_

_I revised a section in chapter four: Pai Sho. Someone pointed out to me that the Avatar world had neither plastic nor forks at this time. I've changed it to a metal spoon, since those have actually appeared in the series. The change is relevant to the second section of this chapter, so I figured I should mention it. Happy reading!_

Chapter Seven

Aang held the water over Azula's abdomen, waiting.

He had seen Katara use her waterbending to heal dozens of times. Between fighting the Fire Nation and learning the elements, their ragtag bunch often needed medical care, which Katara had always provided.

He had never healed anyone, and he had no idea how he was supposed to help someone this severely injured. His energy floundered blindly, searching for some path into the princess's battered body.

He found none.

Rushed as he'd been to master all the elements, he'd learned only the basics of earthbending and waterbending. No special techniques, no superfluous skills. Now he was starting to wish he'd taken a little bit of time to at least examine the extra techniques. Even if Azula was his enemy, it was wrong to withhold medical care.

Wasn't it?

Aang closed his eyes, ignoring the moral implications of what he was doing and focusing on his bending. The water flowed uselessly over Azula's abdomen, unable to touch the damage inside. _I have to do this, _he told himself. _Monk Gyatso taught me all life was precious. Even if she is my enemy, I can't let her die. The Avatar is supposed to bring peace to the world._

_But I don't know how to _do _this!_ _I'm not like Katara. I have to learn all the elements. I don't have time to practice this one little thing. _His breathing accelerated. Ice formed around his fingertips as his fingers curled up. _What should I do? Tell the guards I don't know how to do it? But if I do that, it's straight back to the cell. _He flinched at the thought of going hungry again. They'd given him half a loaf of bread and some cheese before taking him down here, probably trying to get his strength up so he'd be fit for the task. His shrunken stomach felt uncomfortably full, though he knew he'd been able to eat much more at a time before he'd been imprisoned.

The ice around his fingertips thawed. Aang refocused his energy, probing for some way to make the water obey. It had been so long since he'd practiced his waterbending, he wasn't sure he even remembered half of it. _How can I hope to master a new technique when I've barely mastered the old ones? _

He let out a sigh and lifted his hands. The water clung to them like a second skin. _What am I doing wrong? _he wondered. _I'm moving the water over the wound, just like Katara used to do. What else is there to it? _He thought back to all the times Katara had used her waterbending to heal. _The first time was when I accidentally burned her. Then she healed me after my fight with Zhao. _Dozens of short memories flickered through his mind, from when Katara had treated various cuts and bruises. Always, her face was solemn when she worked. Intense. Focused. _Everything I'm not._

_Okay. Focus. Think only about repairing the damage and see if that works. _He brought his hands back down to Azula's abdomen, forcing the princess's face out of his mind. If he pretended she was someone else—Katara perhaps—maybe it wouldn't be so hard. _Just think of Katara. You'd want to help her, if she was unable to help herself, wouldn't you? This is just the same. _

Aang closed his eyes. Took a breath. Opened his eyes.

The water had begun to glow.

* * *

><p>It took five days to hoard enough spoons for his plan.<p>

Sokka hadn't expected it to be such a long process, but Cayenne was out sick for three of the five days, and the guard who'd taken her shift had neither the disposition or the familiarity with him to hand over an extra slice of pie at dinner. Sokka refrained from asking about it, except once when he'd made a passing remark about his preference for chocolate frosting.

In the intervening days, Sokka played more Pai Sho with Suki. He tried to pick a different table and meeting time every day, not wanting to draw suspicion with his newfound habit. Suki had picked up on the need for secrecy, and had foregone one day of Pai Sho in an attempt to derail any suspicion. That day, he'd played Pai Sho with a broad-shouldered firebender from Ember Island, resorting to the techniques he'd learned from Master Piandao instead of the coded messages of his games with Suki.

Cayenne returned after three days. As she'd handed over his dinner plate, she'd alluded to chronic headaches. Sokka offered his sympathies, trying to remind her that they were, if not exactly allies, on friendly terms. She'd smiled faintly and handed over a platter of food—no extra dessert this time.

The following day, Sokka communicated his plan through a game of Pai Sho. It took him almost the whole hour to explain his idea about using the spoons as tools to break into one of the coolers.

"Are you sure this will work?" Suki asked, once she finally pieced together the meaning of the tiles. Her grey eyes were tight with stress, as if she feared even her vague question would draw unwanted attention.

Sokka nodded, keeping his voice nonchalant. "Yeah. It's just perfect." He slid the bird tile—the one they'd been using to communicate "freedom"—to the edge of the board, well beyond the fire and water tiles.

A whistle pierced the sweltering air, calling all prisoners back to their cells. Sokka grinned widely, waving. "Play again tomorrow?" he asked.

Suki hesitated a moment, eyes flashing to the guards as they ushered prisoners back into the facility. "Tomorrow," she finally agreed.

They split up, going into their separate lines. Prisoners were segregated by gender into two separate parts of the prison, for obvious reasons. Despite top-notch security, the Boiling Rock still bore the same reputation as every other prison in the world. The threat of riots and rape were the same here as they were in rowdier prisons, just more discreet. _A lot of these people are traitors or masterminds, _he thought. Confined to a cell for twenty-three hours every day, there was little to do besides watch people. Peering through the little window of his cell door had yielded much information about the other inmates. The vast majority were firebenders. Of those, most were somewhere near Zuko's skill level. Talented and refined. _This isn't the kind of prison people break out of, _thought the pessimistic part of him. _What makes you think you can get out when so many have failed? _

He shook off the thought as one of the guards locked him in his cell for the night. He went over to his bed, waiting until he heard the rumble of other inmates subside. Everyone was rowdy after their allotted time in the yard. An hour wasn't enough to drive all the pent-up frustration from the prisoners' bodies, and they were always agitated when the whistle blew to send them back to their cells.

Eventually, the whisper of feet subsided. Sokka stared up at the barred window, letting the minutes pass. No one was likely to burst in through the door, but he always waited until it was quiet so he could hear the movements of the guards beyond his cell. After almost half an hour of being alone, Sokka rolled off his bed and stuck a hand under the mattress, fingers probing for the metal spoons he'd collected so far. He had one from the night the idea had occurred to him, and one more he'd risked taking from the guard who'd filled in for Cayenne. He'd agonized over the reckless move, knowing that if the temporary guard realized there was a utensil missing, his room would be searched, and he'd be put in solitary confinement. But no one had come for him. They saw his smile and listened to his jokes when he returned his plate, and if anyone took note of the theft, it happened after all the plates had been collected, after the risk of being singled out all but disappeared.

Two spoons. Enough to make a simple tool. Sokka had already spent agonizing hours twining the two handles together to form a scissor-like grip. With the right amount of pressure, the twisted utensils could clamp down around a bolt and make the first difficult turns. After that, he could free the bolts with his hands. _It would take a few hours, _he thought. _All of that spent in the cold. But I grew up in the South Pole, how cold could it be? _His index finger brushed the smooth curve of one of the spoons. It reflected a distorted face back at him. _This will probably be enough to separate the cooler from the wall. The question is, how do I get it out from there? The guards will notice if I break away from my line after yard time. But what else can I do? _

He turned his little invention in his hands, thinking. _I could make it, if I had a distraction. It would have to be something big for me to slip away unnoticed. Like a full scale riot._

_Could I do it? _he wondered. _If I try to spark a rebellion, will the other prisoners follow me? The water tribe warriors listened to me when I told them Azula was coming, but they were my people. Can I get a bunch of firebenders to listen?_

He frowned. "I have to," he whispered, staring at his reflection. His features were so distinct from everyone else's—every part of his screamed Southern Water Tribe. _These people may not be so loyal to a country that's locked them up, but they won't be thrilled by any speech made by someone from the Southern Water Tribe, either. _"Whatever it takes, I have to get out of here and find the others."

He returned the spoons to their place beneath his mattress, pushing them far to the back so he wouldn't feel them shift as he tried to sleep. He closed his eyes, waiting for dinner.

Cayenne was serving again. Tonight, instead of pie, they served cookies. No more tools to add to his pitiful collection. _What I have will have to be enough. It won't be long before they do another search of the rooms. _

Sokka picked at his food, unable to latch onto his usual gusto despite the rich pickings. The stress tied his stomach in knots. Everything was in place. Once he told Suki, they'd start a riot. Tomorrow, or the next day. No longer than that.

Half an hour later, Cayenne returned to pick up plates. Sokka handed his over, chatting with the young guard as he always did. _Everything must appear the same as it has been, _he reminded himself, pushing any thoughts of his plan to the back of his mind. _No one must sense a change in my behavior. _

For the next two hours, he paced across the floor, and spent a little time working out. And watching. Always watching. When it was an acceptable hour to go to sleep, he curled up in his sheets and closed his eyes. Throughout the night, he tossed and turned, stomach bunching up into knots whenever the potential holes in his plan passed through his mind. Any small thing that went wrong could ruin any chance of escape.

His fitful sleep was eventually interrupted by the morning whistle. Sokka ate breakfast, cleaned his cell to the prison's standards, waited a few hours until lunch, and was finally allowed his hour outside. He went straight to the Pai Sho tables, not wanting to miss a chance to speak to Suki now that his plan was fully formed.

Sokka set up both sides of the board, scanning the crowds of prisoners for Suki's chin-length brown hair. When she didn't show up after several minutes, he began to worry. _Probably just trying to keep the guards from getting suspicious. _

One inmate challenged him to a game of Pai Sho while he waited for Suki to show. Sokka defeated him handily, despite the growing knot in his stomach. Every minute or so, his eyes flickered up to scan the crowd, and he had to remind himself to act natural, lest he alert the guards to his subterfuge.

His hour in the yard passed without a single sighting of the brunette. When the whistle blew, his stomach turned. He stood up, almost knocking over a stack of tiles in his haste. He hurried toward the inner building, not even bothering to conceal his frantic searching. If Suki was just diverting suspicion by socializing with the other prisoners, then that was fine. He could wait one more day to speak to her. _If _that was what she was doing.

But he couldn't find her anywhere. His gaze crawled across every face in the woman's line, looking for her familiar, ash-colored eyes, but if she was there, she was taking care not to be seen.

_Where are you, Suki? _he wondered wildly, just as an armored hand came down on his shoulder.


	8. The Cooler

_Author's Note:_

_I know I just did a chapter on Sokka, but his escape attempt is the most interesting, and I didn't want to leave you on a cliffhanger too long. Besides, I like Sokka._

Chapter Eight

Sokka whirled at the unfamiliar touch. The armored hand shifted slightly on his shoulder, but did not release him. "Y-yes sir?"

"You've been ordered to the interrogation room," a voice said. Despite the words, Sokka felt a rush of relief.

"Suki?"

Through the slit in her helm, Suki winked. "No delays now. Turn around."

He obeyed, wondering where she was going with this. When he felt two iron manacles wrap around his wrists, a little shiver ran down his spine. She rested one hand on his back, fingers splayed to cover as much surface area as possible. "Walk forward please."

Again, he obeyed. Prisoners glared as he passed, all hostile, but for different reasons. Some suspected him of being a snitch. Others were annoyed that he got to get out of this sweltering heat and into the temperate prison sooner. Still others wore a grudging look of respect behind their glowers. Sokka ignored them all, hoping he wouldn't have to see them again.

Another guard passed by. "Where's this one going?" he asked. Sokka tensed, and the hand on his back froze.

"To the interrogation room. I'm investigating rumors of a potential riot."

"Ah. Well, let's go, I'll help you."

Suki hesitated just a moment. _Please think of something, _Sokka thought. Her hand stiffened, fingers coiling up into a fist against his spine. "Just me. Warden's orders."

Sokka saw the guard's eyebrow shoot up, beyond the shadow of his visor. "The Warden, huh?"

"That's right."

"What for?"

"We believe this prisoner has somehow managed to contact someone from the outside, and may be trying to spark a riot. The Warden tasked me with his interrogation."

"Huh."

_Huh? What's that supposed to mean? _Sokka tried to swallow the lump rising in his throat, but it felt like his saliva had congealed to the point of choking him. _If he doesn't believe us, we're as good as dead. _

"Well, don't want to piss off the Warden," the other guard finally said. "Carry on."

Suki nodded and applied pressure to Sokka's back, unraveling her fingers. He started walking, letting his heart rate come down. _That was close . . ._

They bypassed the lines of prisoners, then made their way to the next checkpoint, where Suki explained the situation to the guards on duty. She handed them a badge with someone else's name engraved on it, then proceeded to take him to the room with the coolers.

Sokka peered in through the frosty windows of the little rooms, wondering what he'd have to face. From the ice crusted against the walls, the air inside was even more frigid than he'd imagined.

"They put people in here from the end of the hall to the beginning," Suki whispered, stopping next to one of the cells. "I don't think anyone will notice you here, but you should work fast all the same. Take this." She handed him a long piece of metal, which he recognized as a wrench. It put the twisted spoons under his mattress to shame. "This is fit for the bolts on the inside of the cooler. Start at the top and work your way down the sides."

"How did you find all this out?" he asked.

"A good warrior has to be aware of their surroundings at all times. I've spent the last few weeks listening, getting to know the other prisoners, even some of the guards. Remember that game of Pai Sho, where we talked about the cooler?"

He nodded. As soon as she'd suggested it, he'd known it was their best chance of getting out.

"I asked some of the other inmates about them. They're separate from the walls, on their own ventilation system. Insulated. They'll be able to carry us across the boiling lake, no problem. With the right tools, they're also easy to dismantle. Once we're across the lake, we just roll this to the edge of the island and use it as a boat."

"Okay. I'll dismantle it from inside."

"And I'll come get you, as soon as the dinner shift is over. Sooner if it looks like something's going wrong." She took off her helmet. A small burn marked her left cheek, right below her eye.

"What happened there?"

"The guard whose uniform I stole was a firebender. It's nothing." She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, holding him there for a long moment. "We leave at nightfall. I've got everything planned out."

"I'll be ready."

She opened the door of the cooler. Frigid fog swept across the floor. "Get in."

He obeyed, moving quickly in case any other guards were about to come in.

"One more thing," Suki said, half-closing the door. Her grey eyes shone with unshed tears.

"Yeah?"

She kissed him one more time, slower and more passionate than before. Her arms coiled around his chest, crossing at his mid-back. Tufts of brown hair brushed the sides of his face. "I love you. Whatever happens, I love you."

His heart twisted at the words. "I love you, too," he choked out.

She closed the door.


	9. Luminosity

_Author's Note_

_Sorry about the slow updates. I've got four fics going, and even though this is one of my top priorities, I just haven't had the time or inspiration to work on it lately. Never fear, though, I'm not abandoning this fic. I don't abandon my stories, especially stories that get such nice reviews. Thanks as always for reading! _

Chapter Nine

The water glowed with ethereal light.

_I did it, _Aang thought, and for a moment, his surprise overpowered his desire to escape.

The water tingled against his hands, a sensation both peculiar and instinctively familiar. He wondered if the novelty of the feeling wore off after a few times, or if healing someone always felt like this.

The royal guards watched the glowing water, their eyes fixed on the princess's abdomen. Aang wasn't sure if he was actually healing her, or if the water was just sitting uselessly on her abdomen, but at least it _looked _like he was doing something. They wouldn't question him if he asserted that there was no way for the princess to recover.

_But that would be wrong, _some small part of him thought. _I have to at least give this my best shot. Just like I would if I was healing Katara . . ._

_If Katara is still alive. _

His teeth buried themselves in his lower lip. If he could survive months in that filthy cell, burned and malnourished, surely Katara could survive a fight with Azula. _She probably didn't even get caught. After all, they weren't trying to capture her. And at the catacombs, Zuko was helping us . . . _He frowned, distracted from his healing. _But why? Zuko's been our enemy for so long—why would he suddenly turn against his sister and help us? What did Katara say to him, before I found her?_

The glow faded from the water, and he refocused. It took him a few minutes to nail down the technique. He was the Avatar, and that afforded him a natural edge when it came to learning the elements, but healing was a much more difficult technique than he'd imagined, and he had no one here to teach him. _I should've had Katara teach me. Then again, she's mostly self-taught . . . _

After a few seconds, the water began to shimmer with a faint luminescence. He moved it higher up Azula's abdomen, trying not to think about who he was healing. The daughter of the Fire Lord was one of the fiercest opponents he'd ever encountered. Healing her was counterproductive.

_Just pretend it's Katara, _he reminded himself, closing his eyes. If he concentrated, he could feel the uneven flow of the Fire Nation princess's chi. While most of her body pulsed with life, the area around her abdomen seemed empty, as if all the energy paths that were supposed to be coiled up around her stomach had been severed. _Maybe they have. That would explain why she's not healing on her own. _

An idea occurred to him right then, as the edges of the water washed over her skin. _I bet that's how Katara does it. She uses her waterbending to reconstruct the energy pathways, and the body heals rapidly after that. _For the first time in weeks, his lips stretched into a childlike grin.

The guards didn't shuffle around or give any indication of their unease, but he could detect the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Where a moment ago they'd been curious about his powers, now they were wary. _Is it because I smiled? _Aang forced his lips into a flat line.

Figuring out where the energy pathways were had been the easy part. It was when he tried to knit them together that he ran into trouble. He tried moving the luminous liquid over the edges of the frayed threads, but it had no effect on them. He couldn't drag them where he wanted. _How does Katara _do _this? _

The air grew more tense as the minutes passed. Some part of his mind was busy calculating how long this treatment ought to take. Katara had been such a natural at this; it had never taken her more than a minute to heal any of them. Admittedly, none of them had ever had such severe injuries, but even so . . . _Do the guards know how long this should take? _he wondered, fidgeting. _Or do they really think it takes this long? _

He couldn't knit the frayed channels back together. The best he could do was let his own energy leak down, with the water acting as a sort of conductor. Where the two energies met, the threads twisted. But no matter what he did, they wouldn't grow back together.

_Maybe I really can't do this, _he thought. _Maybe no one can. _He withdrew his hands, letting the water drop back into the bowl. "The damage is too extensive," he said.

He expected the guards to react in anger, or restrain him so he wouldn't be a threat. So when they let out a collective sigh, it was all he could do to keep his eyes on the bowl in front of him. _They sound so sad. Like they really care about the princess._

His lips turned down into a frown, and all at once, the weeks he'd spent in prison ceased to matter to him. _I'm the Avatar. I'm supposed to keep people from suffering. I'm supposed to keep things like this from happening._

The royal guards exchanged glances, their eyes expressing more sadness than Aang could've imagined with the rest of their faces hidden. It was as if someone had taken the life right out of them. As if they'd acknowledged the death-grip of fate.

_Maybe . . . Maybe I was wrong, _Aang thought. _The Fire Nation is my enemy, and they're in the wrong, but . . . if they don't see it that way . . . if they really think this war is the best solution to their problems . . . I'm sure most of them are only following orders, even if it does make others suffer. _He looked down at Azula's face. With her features slackened in sleep, she looked almost peaceful.

_This war hasn't just affected the other nations. As cruel as Azula is, she's a victim, too. Raised to take over the war once her father stepped down or died . . . Is it any wonder she turned out like this? And if Zuko really _did _betray the Fire Nation at the catacombs, who can say Azula's any different? She's more ruthless, sure, but even she would have to see sense in a peace treaty. If her father would agree._

_If she survived this. Which she won't. _He folded his hands in his lap, letting his head hang down.

_I already failed in the Crystal Catacombs. Am I going to fail here, too? _

_Azula would've never been our ally, _he reminded himself. _Her goal was to stay in the Fire Lord's good graces, not regain her honor. There was never any reason for her to betray the Fire Nation. But even so, this isn't as one-sided as everyone's trying to make it. The war needs to end, but if I can save even one life now . . . Even if it is the life of my enemy . . . That's not wrong. Saving someone's life can't be wrong. _

"I'm going to try again," he whispered. Several of the guards raised their eyes to his face, and for the first time, he made eye contact with some of them. _They're all counting on me. I'm giving people hope. That has to count for something._

He lowered his hands to the bowl, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. He drew the water out of the bowl and moved it over the princess's abdomen. A silver luminescence twisted through the liquid, playing off the surface like sun off ocean waves.

_I don't know what I'm going to do to stop this war, _Aang thought. _But I do know what I'm going to do about this._


	10. Thicker than Water

Chapter Ten

The opportunity came so naturally, Katara decided to seize it.

"Do you think there's some head trauma that we missed?" the nurse asked, during one of the routine visits. Katara laid still, keeping up her comatose act as she had for the past few days. "The damage to her heart and lungs seems largely repaired, yet she won't stir."

"It's possible," the doctor said. Katara heard the _scrape _of metal instruments moving across a steel tray, a familiar sound after the days she'd spent here. "Lightning can caused irreparable damage to the nervous system. Even if the bolt didn't compromise her heart and lungs, it could've damaged her brain."

Katara stiffened a little at the thought of brain damage, but apparently, no one was watching her closely enough to notice the shift. She forced her breathing to remain slow and steady. The shuffling of feet alerted her to the movement of the medical staff.

"In any case, there's still a chance she'll wake up. And if she does, she might prove a valuable war prisoner."

She gritted her teeth, knowing the tiny movement would elicit no response from her caretakers. _Jeez, one minute, they sound so sympathetic, and the next, they're talking about my value as a war prisoner. _

"No point in worrying about it now," the doctor said. "We've got a patient in three with severe burns. The other doctors might want our assistance."

The nurse must've given some nonverbal reply because they both shuffled out of the room.

Katara waited until their footsteps had faded down the hallway before opening her eyes. They slid over to the metal sink on the edge of the room. She'd been thinking about it for days now, trying to calculate how much use she'd get out of it before someone came running. Not much.

_But it won't be much longer before they figure out I've been awake this whole time, _she reasoned. _And now that I'm healed, I can put up a fight._

Her eyes flickered to the door. It was open, exposing a small section of the hallway and a part of the room across from her. If anyone walked by before she'd adequately prepared, her escape attempt would crumble. _I have to do this right, _she thought, moving her hand to the syringe in her arm. The needle had been sticking out of her elbow since she'd first woken up, but the contents of the bags hanging by her bed had changed several times since she'd arrived her. First, the liquid had been cloudy white with painkillers. Later, when the doctor had noticed her rapid healing, it had been changed to nothing more than a glucose drip— "liquid food," the nurse had called it. Katara's stomach clenched painfully at the thought of real food, and she decided that whatever they were pumping into her veins was insufficient to keep her nourished.

_This isn't the time to be thinking of food, _she chastised herself. _You're not Sokka. _

She took the needle between her fingers, biting her lip in preparation for what she was about to do. The Fire Nation seemed fairly advanced in their medical care, like they were in everything else, but she wasn't well versed in their techniques, and she had no idea how to remove the needle safely. _Maybe if I go slow . . . _she thought, easing the needle out. Blood well up around the hole, a sight somehow more disgusting than feeling her own blood flow in her veins while she'd healed. But she persevered, her eyes flashing up to the open door every few seconds. And slowly, _slowly _she slid the needle out.

_Spirits, that was a lot more nerve-wracking than I expected. _She took a deep breath and pressed a finger down over the spot of blood, coaxing the flesh to close up. As soon as it did, she threw off the sheets and got to her feet for the first time in days. A wave of vertigo nearly overwhelmed her, and she had to brace herself against the edge of her cot to keep herself from fainting. _I must be in worse shape than I thought._

The dizziness passed, though, and she moved over to the sink. This was the most dangerous part. If anyone heard the sound of running water and decided to investigate, it would all be over for her. _This could be my only chance, though. I have to take it, no matter the risk. _She twisted the handle, until the water ran in a thick stream from the faucet. She brought it up her arms, like sleeves, and let it wash over her torso. The feeling of water on her skin was such that she wondered how long it had been since she'd had a bath.

_Focus, _she told herself, glancing over her shoulder and out the door. Still no one there.

Despite the steady stream, it took several minutes for her to cloak herself in water. Every second of it overflowed with anxiety. The hospital was a busy place. It was a miracle no one had discovered her yet. _Just another minute, _she thought, closing her eyes in prayer. _I just need one more minute, then I'll have enough for bending. _

The spirits must've been on her side, because she'd acquired a shifting cloak of water by the time her allotted minute was up. She took a moment to breathe, letting the water settle over her frame. And then she made a run for it.

Luck carried her through the first hallway. Most of the doors were closed, keeping her out of sight of the other doctors and patients. Of the doors that were open, the rooms were either abandoned or the patients asleep. It was when she reached the second corridor that she ran into one of the nurses.

Surprise cut off the woman's opportunity to retaliate. Katara swept her aside with one water-cloaked arm and froze one of the woman's wrists to the wall. The woman started screaming hysterically. "The waterbender's loose! Get security!"

_Not today, _Katara thought, sprinting down the hallway. Two men in the plain cloaks of physicians ran out into the hallway where she was running, armed only with clipboards. Katara charged for them head on, sweeping them aside with her bending water. One ran, startled by the sudden rush of liquid, bolted back into the hallway from which he'd emerged. The other, a white-haired man with a beard longer than his legs, moved too slowly, and got frozen up to his ankles where he stood.

Katara kept running, knowing she had to reach an exit eventually. _They must have some place where the patients are carried in, _she thought, face jerking side to side as she debated which corridor she should run down next. In her moment of hesitation, a cluster of guards appeared at the other end of the hallway. _Guess I'm going that way, _she thought, sprinting away from them.

Orange light shining against the pale walls warned her of the oncoming fireball. She whirled around, throwing a wall of ice between her and the glowing orb. Steam exploded into the hallway where the two met, obscuring her view of the guards.

"Damn it," she hissed, redistributing the layer of water over her body. Her ice shield had used almost half her water supply.

Her legs carried her down the next hallway. With guards behind her, all her energy went to escaping. Any thought of stopping to look at a map or find a door fled her mind.

Two more guards cut her off at the end of the hallway, and she knew she was trapped.

Her body moved into a waterbending stance. Tentacles of the clear liquid split off from her cloak, surrounding her. This technique was meant for taking on multiple opponents at once.

"Come get me," she taunted, high on adrenaline. _Or maybe painkillers, _she thought wildly.

The two guards fell into firebending stances. Their bodies were much more rigid than hers, not well suited to the flowing movements of waterbending. _They really _are _opposite elements._

Two streams of fire exploded from their fists. She brought two tentacles up to extinguish them before they hit her. Two more slithered across the floor like sea snakes, until they reached the firebenders' feet. Ice crawled up their ankles, then their knees, locking them in place. Sounds of panic exploded through their teeth.

Katara smiled fiercely and ran past them. Behind her, the first group of guards she'd encountered finished melting the wall of ice and ran after her, shouting. "Stop right there!"

"Not a chance," she whispered, turning the corner again. This time, she tried to move in the direction she'd been heading before she'd turned down this corridor. This hallway stretched out further, but overflowed with doctors and nurses.

Almost everybody was on high-alert. Escape attempts were evidently not common in Fire Nation hospitals, though, because even though everyone was rushing around, their movements were chaotic—they had no real plan for how to handle the situation.

"There she is!" one of the nurses squeaked, pointing in her direction. But Katara couldn't focus on that because thirty feet away, beyond the cluster of panicked doctors, was a door leading outside. She ran for it, breathing hard.

People tried to stop her. She cast them each aside with the water she still carried, freezing each in place when they hit the ground. She didn't hold back. If she was going to seriously injure someone, this was the best place to do it.

_And besides, I don't have the luxury of holding back anymore, _she thought, hand coming into contact with the door handle. Before she could pull it open, a rush of heat caught her in the upper shoulder. Automatically, she threw herself to the ground. The fire whip receded, then came down again. She brought the last of her water up to block it, flinching when the liquid turned to steam. _I have to get out _now_, _she thought, hand scrambling for the handle again.

The firebender in control of the whip approached. His gait was that of an experienced warrior, but his garb was that of a patient. _A soldier returning home? _she wondered, seeing the burn scars on his arm. The marks reminded her painfully of Zuko.

"Not so fast, girl," the man huffed, the whip thickening as his hand shifted. Katara yanked on the door handle, trying to make the heavy doors swing the way she wanted them to. They creaked open, like the gates of a castle dungeon. By the time they did, the firebender was close enough for a more powerful attack. From the corner of her eye, she saw him take a deep breath. Drawing in power.

Her hands moved without a conscious command, fingers going rigid and straight. At once, she felt the _wrongness _of the motion. Waterbending was supposed to be smooth, graceful even in its attacks. But her gut commanded her to move as she did, and her chi coiled up in unfamiliar patterns. The shift was so alien, it was all she could do to keep the tension in her body.

The man stepped forward, hand closing into a fist. Katara's fingers flexed. The spiral of energy uncoiled, grabbing hold of water that wasn't _there_, water that was thick and alive inside the man's body. Her hands closed, the movement abrupt, sharp.

The firebender dropped to his knees, a jet of blood exploding from his lips.


	11. Bitter Escapes

Chapter Eleven

Sokka knew something was wrong the moment the door opened.

Suki snatched his wrist and dragged him out of the cooler. Behind her visor, her eyes were wide, pupils dilated. "Help me pull the cooler free," she said, her hands already on one side of the metal box.

He didn't say anything. His hands sought the other side of the cooler and pulled with as much force as he could manage. The sound of steel colliding with steel grated on his ears. "What happened?" he gasped as one side of the cooler rolled free from the wall. The nuts and bolts at the bottom of the cylinder jingled.

"Nothing," Suki answered, too quick. "We just have to hurry. Are you okay?"

The question confused him for a moment. Then he realized she was talking about the temperature inside the cooler. "I'm fine. It was warmer than high summer in the South Pole. No big deal." He'd disabled the ventilation within the first hour anyway, with the wrench she'd given him. The cold didn't make him uncomfortable, but the numbness that had crept into his fingers had interfered with his ability to use the wrench, so he'd tinkered with the air conditioning system until it shut off.

They pulled the cooler free of the wall. Suki shoved it over, kicking the door off its dismantled hinges. Both landed with a crash.

"Should we be making this much noise?" Sokka asked, recoiling from the sound.

"This thing will be easier to roll than it'll be to carry."

_That wasn't an answer, _he thought, as Suki joined him on his side and started rolling. He did the same, so the cylinder moved faster over the smooth floor. It made enough noise to alert half the prison.

The next few minutes passed without words. Suki guided the cooler in the direction she wanted it to go, and he helped push it along. At one point, he glanced at her, and saw the beads of sweat on her face through the visor. "You have to take the armor off," he told her.

"Sh. No time."

"But—"

"Sh!"

They kept moving. When they made it past the exterior doors, the sound of their passage softened. _The dirt is muffling the sounds from the cooler, _he thought.

"The currents will bring you past the boiling lake and to the outer ring of the island," Suki explained. "They won't be looking for you there."

"Okay."

They were close enough to the edge now that he could hear the bubbles rising from the water. The lake wasn't truly boiling, as the name implied, but simmering. Just enough to disturb the surface with pockets of rising steam. But the lake gave off heat so intense that Sokka began to wonder about the wisdom of this plan.

"Get in the cooler," Suki ordered. To anyone else, her voice would've sounded confident and commanding. But Sokka could detect the edge of panic there.

Something had gone wrong. Suki knew what it was, but she wasn't telling him.

"What happened?" he demanded, one foot in the opening of the cooler. His fingers coiled around her wrist, adding desperation to his demand.

She pulled him close, ripping her helmet off, and slammed her lips against his. For one second, he stood there, startled by the force of her kiss. Then his fingers twined in her hair. His body pressed against her armor. "Suki . . ."

"I love you." She shoved his shoulders so he fell backwards into the cooler. An upturned bolt poked at the bottom of his spine where he fell. Fresh bruises formed over his arms where they'd collided with the empty doorframe.

A new voice pierced the night. "They went this way! You can see the tracks."

_Cayenne, _he thought, eyes flashing up to the sound of the voice. Suki snatched his ankles and thrust his feet into the body of the cooler.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, no longer conscious of their need for silence.

"I love you," she repeated. The sadness in her tone sent a wave of horror through him.

"_The currents will bring you past the boiling lake and to the outer ring of the island," _she'd said, only a minute ago. _"You," not "us," _he thought, feeling as if both his lungs had collapsed. "No."

"You have to go." She shoved the cooler, rather than rolled it, to the edge of the lake. He heard the hiss of the cool metal hitting the simmering water.

"Suki, _no_. I'm not leaving you here."

"They're escaping!" Cayenne's voice cut through the bubbling lake.

"The steam and the darkness will cover you," Suki said, shoving him further into the water. Instinct kicked in, and he struggled to sit up in the cooler.

"Come with me."

She shook her head.

"Why?" _What are you doing?_

Another shove, and the cooler began to float. "Your father arrived on the gondola four days ago."

The words sent a jolt up his spine. "What?"

"He's in solitary confinement. We can't get to him now, but I can help him later."

Sokka could hear the prison dogs clawing their way down the rocky shore. Suki kicked the cooler, sending it further into the water. Only a few feet, but with the temperature as it was, it might as well have been miles. _No, _he thought, staring at the widening gap. _I would paddle back over miles. This is like crossing an ocean._

"_Suki_."

Her voice was firm. Resigned. "Goodbye Sokka."

Through the thick clouds of steam, he could see the silhouettes of the guards. Four or five of them. Suki donned her helmet again.

As he drifted away, he realized something. _She said she loved me. She really did. And I never said it back. _He opened his mouth to say the words, then bit his tongue. The guards were too close. If he spoke loud enough for Suki to hear, he'd give away his location.

But if she died, she would never hear him say it. Never.

"We've lost them," Suki said. He could tell from the muffled quality of her voice that she was facing the other guards.

They were only a few feet away now, but drifting further apart. Any chance he had to return to her slipped away as the current pulled him to the opposite shore. Any chance he had to speak to her had slipped away when the guards had stumbled upon them.

_She's out of my reach, _he thought, curling his arms and legs in on himself so they were protected from the sultry air. _And I might never see her again._

Steam rose above him in a thick, white soup. Sokka closed his eyes and drifted.

* * *

><p>The rush of blood startled her so much, all she could do was stare.<p>

_Impossible, _she thought, arms going limp. After the brief moment of rigidity her last move had required, her muscles felt strange. _Wrong. Unnatural._

The firebender coughed, more blood spilling down his hospital gown. Katara had an irrational thought that the man had come here to get some bizarre respiratory condition treated. The other part of her struggled to grasp the ramifications of what she'd just done.

It had been so easy, for all its awkwardness. After days of controlling her own blood flow, knitting her damaged body back together, the tug and pull had become familiar to her. Manipulating blood was more difficult than manipulating water, but since it had been the only advantage she'd had, she'd used the technique. Over and over again. Almost exclusively since coming here. So when she'd felt the too-familiar pull on her rigid fingers, some other part of her mind had taken over. Something primal. Dangerous. She had actually _felt _the man's organs ripping, _felt _the man's chi paths shredding at the epicenter of her attack.

And while her conscious mind had recoiled from the horror of what she'd just done, some small part of her had rejoiced.

The doctors and nurses moved swiftly, once again in their element as they went to assist the dying man. The part of Katara's mind that was still calculating knew there was nothing they could do to save him. _Nothing _I _can do . . ._

Her hands shook at her sides. Her fingers curled into fists.

Only a second passed from the time the first drops of blood passed the dying man's lips to the time where she finished processing what had happened. Enough time for the doctors to react, to be calling out orders to the flustered nurses that remained, but not enough time for the Fire Nation soldiers to catch up to her.

Katara saw her chance at escape and took it. Her shoulder plowed into one of the double doors, her numb legs carrying her across the floor. She hit a second set of doors, shoving through them and into the darkness outside.

When she'd learned of Aang's death, she'd run out of grief. When she'd seen the Fire Nation soldier hovering over her mother, she'd run out of fear. But it was neither of those things that propelled her feet forward now.

If it had been possible to run away from herself, she would have. But since she couldn't, she settled for the next best thing. She ran away from the place that would haunt her nightmares forever. She ran away from the place where she'd made her first kill.

She didn't stop when she reached the ocean. Instead, she dove in, letting the cool waves embrace her. The water swaddled her, like a newborn baby.

"_The Avatar is a baby somewhere in the North Pole by now."_

Her lungs convulsed, and a rush of water poured down her throat. Her body flailed at the invasion, eyes flying wide.

Katara had one wild thought about the irony of a waterbender drowning before the water rushed into her lungs.


	12. Before We Burn

_Author's Notes:_

_My muse has returned. Here's another chapter to celebrate._

Chapter Twelve

Slowly, Aang learned how to heal another person.

It turned out to be a lot simpler than he'd thought. As the silver luminescence spread out across the water, he reconnected with the princess's chi paths. They seemed somehow brighter now, as if his resolve had somehow intensified his sensitivity.

The royal guards watched, their faces filled with a strange mix of awe and unease. Aang could feel tension radiating between them. They all wanted to princess to survive, ruthless and cunning though she was. Perhaps they saw her as a symbol of strength here in the Fire Nation, or perhaps their close relationship to the royal family had afforded them a glimpse of something worth saving in the girl. Whatever it was, Aang was compelled to repair the damage that had been done.

The energy channels fluttered as the glowing water passed over them. They seemed more responsive to the movements of the liquid now, whether that was due to a delayed effect from the previous healing session, or due to an improvement over his first attempt. The pathways snaked out, searching for connections. When two ends met, they grew together.

_That's good, _Aang thought. _It must be working. _

Minutes passed as he took each thread of energy and connected it with the rest. From his training with the monks, he had a basic idea of how the energy was supposed to flow across the body. As the pathways connected with each other, he became more confident in his ability to restore the girl's body back to its normal state.

Halfway through the process, a woman entered the hospital room. Aang glanced up, anxious that their visitor might be the Fire Lord himself, coming back to check on his daughter's condition. But he didn't recognize the face.

The guards permitted the woman to stand at the door. At first, Aang assumed she was from the royal family—perhaps a cousin, or an aunt. The woman was in her mid-thirties, and had the same chocolate-brown hair as Azula. Her eyes were a similar golden-brown to the princess's. But her clothes seemed too plain to be those of nobility. From what Aang knew of Fire Nation nobles, they tended to dress in clothes as befitted their rank. The royal family wore lots of red and gold, all their garments intricately stitched and embroidered with symbols of their position. This woman's clothes were almost as simple as the monks' clothes, at the airbending temples, and instead of being Fire Nation colors, they were white. _A doctor? _he wondered, though the white robes didn't line up with the clothes of the other doctors he'd seen on his way in.

The woman stood there several minutes, then walked back out. Aang returned his attention to healing Azula. As the chi paths reconnected, her other injuries began to heal. He could actually feel the blood vessels closing up as the energy flow reestablished itself. It was at once miraculous and empowering.

A few minutes later, he heard more approaching footsteps. In his peripheral vision, one of the guards looked over to the door. A moment later, the man looked back at the glowing water.

The footsteps came closer, and Aang had to swallow the lump of unease that crawled up his throat. In his prison cell, he'd learned to fear the approach of others. While orders had been given not to harm him, the guards had often threatened him with fireballs if he so much as moved on the rare occasions they fed him. Fire Lord Ozai's intrusion—the mere statement that he could revoke that protection and strip away what little safety Aang had found—had only solidified his fear of other people.

"Here," a woman's voice said. She set something on the table beside him. The smell of spices and rice drew his attention faster than he could've imagined, and he barely had the presence of mind to drop the water back into the bowl before his hands reached for the food.

As his fingertips brushed the wooden bowl with the rice, he hesitated. What if the food was poisoned? Wouldn't that be the perfect way to get rid of him, now that the princess was out of danger? _They don't need me, so they're getting rid of me. _He withdrew his hand.

The rice, still steaming, tormented him.

"It's not poisoned," a voice said. He looked up, and recognized the woman who'd observed him from the doorway a few minutes ago. Her gaze was stern, but sympathetic. Maternal. "If you don't eat, it will impede your bending."

He blinked, examining her face for any sign of dishonesty. Her dark eyes returned his gaze, exuding patience.

Aang lifted his emaciated hands to the bowl and brought it into his lap. He picked the chopsticks from the rice and started shoveling the food into his mouth.

The woman spoke again, this time to the guards. "Fire Lord Ozai has requested the Avatar be moved to a different cell. He's assigned me to escort him there."

Aang stiffened at the thought of a new cell. He chewed faster, gorging himself in preparation for his next term of imprisonment.

"We shall accompany you," said one of the guards.

The woman shook her head, her brown hair flowing like water over her full cheekbones. "Just me. Fire Lord's orders. I have the edict right here." She presented the guard with a piece of paper. He took it, eyes scanning the parchment for a long moment before he returned it to her. "Very well, Miss Tazia. We shall leave him to you once he finishes healing the princess."

The woman nodded and stepped aside, waiting by the door.

Aang's stomach filled rather quickly, despite the meager rations. He ate until he felt sick, then left the rest on the tray, shoulders slumping as he waited for it to be taken away. No one came to remove it, though, and he went back to his work.

Healing wasn't so difficult once he got the hang of it. This part of the process went even faster than the first half. The channels wove together, first tenuously, then more naturally. The blank spot around Azula's abdomen came alive with her life energy again, and the flesh healed as a result. By the time he was done, the damage was almost perfectly repaired. "That's it," he said, turning back to the tray of food. He looked for some sign of approval from the woman at the door, but her eyes were trained on the princess's face.

So he ate. As much as he could with his shrunken stomach, as he fought against the spasms that made him want to throw up. When he was certain he could eat no more, he stood.

"This way please," the woman said, gesturing. He followed, keeping his hands at his side as he walked. Wherever he was headed, he prayed it was better than his previous accommodations.

They passed down a series of winding corridors. The hallways were empty except for the random nurse running medication between the rooms.

"Excuse me," he began. "but can I ask you a question?"

The woman—Tazia, the guards had called her—glanced back, her expression unreadable. "Yes?"

"Who are you, exactly?"

She blinked and turned her head back in the direction they were walking. When enough time had passed that he'd stopped expecting an answer, she spoke. "I am a servant to the royal family, and senior handmaid to Princess Azula."

He blinked. _I'm being taken to prison by a _handmaid_? _"Okay . . . And where are we going?"

The woman didn't answer this one, though he waited almost five minutes before giving up on a response. While he waited, they descended a massive stone staircase. Evidently, these stairs wrapped around the exterior of the prison, because shafts of sunlight pierced the room from barred windows.

_How long has it been since I've seen the sun? _he wondered, staring up at the light. It seemed too bright somehow, like the torchlight had been to his eyes after so long in that wretched cell.

They descended for what felt like hours, and Aang was glad they'd brought him up to the prison hospital ward in the metal elevator to care for Azula. The mere thought of climbing all these stairs made him lightheaded.

Eventually, though, they reached the bottom. Tazia led him down another corridor, this one laced with metal doors. "These are the Black Cells," she said.

Aang shivered.

"These haven't been used in years, since their position on the ground level made escape too easy for prisoners. Because of their strength, they were used for criminals who were too powerful to be contained by lesser cells."

"Am I going to be staying here?" he asked, his stomach clenching painfully around the wad of rice he'd eaten earlier.

"No. These cells have all been converted to storage areas. We've come down here to retrieve something."

_But why am _I _here? _he wanted to ask. Surely, the Fire Lord didn't expect one servant to keep the Avatar in check, however weak he'd become. _What's going on? _

Tazia went over to one of the cells. The door opened with a groan, and Aang flinched. The woman actually let him out of her sight for a moment as she inspected the objects held within. _Is she crazy, or does she know I have nowhere to run? _he wondered, frozen where he stood.

After a moment, she emerged from the cell, a long bundle of fabric in her arms. She approached him, cradling the package as if it might break. "Take this and unwrap it."

He obeyed, confused. The wrapping was fine wool—the softest thing he'd touched in months. But it wasn't until he caught a glimpse of what was contained within that his heart started to pound.

The grain of the wood was straight, as if selected specifically for this instrument. The edges were filed down until they were smooth to the touch, then polished and stained with what he guessed to be very expensive chemicals. Two small switches, one near each end of the stick, could be pressed, and a double-jointed wooden bar would unfold from each side of the pole, perpendicular to the main line. Between the thinner extensions and the middle of the staff, a thin, golden membrane stretched out, like a pair of wings.

He looked up at Tazia, his mouth ajar. "This is a _glider_."

She nodded curtly. "I have a close friend who makes such things. I told him it was for a museum exhibit."

He stared at her, struggling for words. Dozens of unfamiliar emotions pulsed through him, ranging from shock and suspicion to gratitude. His fingers traced the smooth wood, felt the gentle ridges of the handholds. The subtle variations in the wings made this glider look more efficient than his old one, but the lack of ornaments lent it a subtle beauty. It was so different from the glider Azula had burned at the catacombs, but so similar in its simplicity that he felt like crying. "I don't understand," he finally said.

The handmaid walked further down the hall. For the first time, Aang noticed the reinforced metal door at the end of the corridor. "I can't imagine you would," she said, one hand on the metal door. "It's not the sort of thing a prisoner of war generally expects."

"But . . . Why? Are you letting me go? I don't _understand_."

"I told you I was loyal to the Fire Nation, and I am. But while the other nations burn from our infernos, another fire is slowly eating away at us from within. Kindness and hope have become foreign concepts in this land. Hatred and cruelty have taken their place. Even now, when we should be ecstatic for the arrival of Sozin's Comet, we are burning out our hope for a good future."

He blinked, surprised at the intensity in her voice.

"This war has gone on too long," she went on, and he could only nod in agreement. "And all four nations have suffered grievously for it. If it continues, it will burn all four nations to the ground. But in you, there is hope. In you, there is freedom from the taint of this hundred-year war. And so . . ." She pushed down on the steel handle, letting the massive door creak open. "you must be the one to end it."

He stared at the brilliant rays of sunshine flooding in through the door and stepped forward. His new glider felt unnaturally light in his hands. He looked back to Tazia, wondering what his face must look like, and bowed deeply, in the style of the monks. "Thank you."

Tazia returned the bow, making the necessary adjustments for the Fire Nation. "Bring hope back to the world, Avatar. Before we burn."

He nodded, flicking the switches that made the wings of his glider swing out. He held the simple instrument above his head and stepped outside. And for the first time in months, he flew.


	13. Reunions

Chapter Thirteen

The threat to her survival brought Katara out of her self-disgust. As soon as the water rushed into her lungs, she brought her arms down and pushed the seawater out of her way so she could reach the surface.

Her body convulsed as she breathed air. Beneath her, the water turned to ice and rose up to give her a place to kneel while she sputtered up a lungful of seawater.

She wasn't so far offshore that she couldn't hear the shouts of the hospital staff. Evidently, no one had even considered the possibility of her escape, because they were still reeling. Katara coughed up another mouthful of water, then gasped in a shallow breath as she listened to the sounds of their panic.

_The guards will be out looking for me soon, _she thought, head clearing as the oxygen level of her body went up. _I have to be gone by the time they start._

She made a smooth motion with her arm, acclimating to the familiar pull of the currents, and pushed her ice raft across the tropical waters. It wasn't much different from pushing the water tribe boat she'd steered when she and Zuko had been alone together.

_Zuko, _she thought, pushing another wave of water between the raft and the island. _I have to find Zuko and the others before the comet. I have to make sure they all got away. _She coughed again, the motion making her throat ache. Perhaps the seawater was jealous that she'd abandoned it in favor of bloodbending.

There were other islands nearby. She made the waves push her to the closest shore, getting as far from the hospital as she could.

She didn't look back.

If the guards in charge of the hospital had any idea where she was, they either didn't have to equipment to follow her, or they didn't want to face a skilled waterbender over the open ocean. Either way, as soon as she realized no one was pursuing her, she relaxed enough to think.

_Zuko is most likely still alive, but Toph would be the most likely to escape, with her metalbending._ _And Sokka . . . if he's still alive, he'll have probably made a plan to get out of wherever he is. Ty Lee will be helpless if she didn't escape before she got off the ship. Iroh is probably alive, too. Appa and Momo would've fled from Fire Nation soldiers. _She took a deep breath, resting her face against the flat layer of ice. Her escape attempt had exhausted her more than she'd anticipated, and it was all she could do to keep up the rhythmic movements required to steer the raft toward the nearest island.

_If I can find any one of them, our chances of getting everyone together and defeating the Fire Nation will improve dramatically. But how am I supposed to find them? Appa would be easiest to find, but I need another person to bounce ideas off of. _

_I need Zuko._

She sighed, turning her head toward the island again. It was much closer now. As her eyes scanned the horizon, however, she caught sight of a figure.

_A soldier? _she wondered, eyebrows coming together. She discarded the notion after a moment. This figure was too short to be a soldier, and dressed in simple red clothes instead of armor. Katara was about ready to melt her raft and pretend to be an ordinary swimmer when she identified the person on the shore.

She stood up, feeling the first real rush of excitement she'd felt in far too long. She almost lost her balance in her haste to be noticed. To avoid falling, she froze her feet to the raft and waved her arms, stirring the ocean water around her.

The figure on the beach didn't acknowledge her, though she was looking out to sea. Katara realized why and started shouting. "Hey! Hey, Toph, it's me!"

The blind girl shot to her feet, the sand hardening to rock where she landed. From this distance, Katara could see the girl's lips stretch into a smile. "Katara, you're alive!"

She pushed herself closer to the beach, only slowing when she realized the waves would overflow and drag Toph under if she didn't control herself. She calmed the sea and melted her raft, relishing the feeling of warm water on her skin as she swam. Toph took several steps forward, stopping when she reached the damp line in the sand where the sea usually crept up. Katara swam until her feet brushed the sand, then ran up the shore.

As soon as she touched the sand, Toph turned to her. "Katara, I can't believe it. How did you survive?"

Katara used her waterbending to dry herself, then caught the earthbender in a tight hug. "That's a story for later," she said, smiling brightly despite the rush of memories the question brought to her mind. Healing with the power in her own blood . . . Killing with the exact same technique . . .

Toph hugged her back, a rare display of affection for the earthbender. It reminded Katara that everyone else was hurting just as much as she was.

"I can't believe it," Toph said. "How did you get here? What happened?"

"Later," Katara promised her. "Right now, we have to focus on finding the others, and that means we have to find out just where we are."

"About fifty miles west of the Capital. On a series of islands called the Prisoners' Chain."

Katara blinked. "How do you know?"

The earthbender squirmed away, breaking their embrace. She crossed her arms out in front of her. "Honestly, Katara, do you think I don't pay attention at all? I eavesdropped on the guards for days before I broke out. The Prisoners' Chain is a bunch of islands where the Fire Nation keeps their criminals."

"Wow. They have a whole archipelago for that?"

Toph cocked her head at the unfamiliar term, then shrugged. "I guess so. But hey, for being a cluster of prisons, security is pretty lax out here. I haven't seen a single soldier since my escape.

"Anyway, I'm getting pretty hungry," Toph went on. "Wanna catch us some fish?"

Katara sighed at the dilemma, but smiled. Finding Toph had been a lot easier than she'd expected. Locating everyone else might not be so hard with the seismic-sensing earthbender by her side.

She went back over to the edge of the beach and brought a glob of water up from below. Trapped inside were half a dozen small fish. She separated them out from the water and carried them over to the fire pit. "How did you start a fire?" she asked. Toph didn't appear to have any possessions except for a jagged hunk of steel she'd evidently filched from the prison. That meant no spark rocks.

"Oh, I went over to the nearest house and told the lady that lived there that I didn't have anything to start a fire with, and I wasn't a firebender. She came out and lit it for me."

"There are houses on this island?"

Toph shrugged. "If you think about it, the Fire Nation doesn't have that much land. It's mostly just islands. So they use every bit of available space for settlements, even places close to prisons." She plopped down next to the fire and handed Katara a sharpened stick. She speared one of the fish and held it over the fire, stomach grumbling.

"We should spend the night here. Rest up so we can find the others." She turned the fish so it wouldn't burn. After a moment, a thought occurred to her. "Hey, Toph, did you happen to overhear anything about the others, while you were in your cell?"

The blind girl shook her head. "Not really. But I did think of something."

"Yeah?"

The earthbender was suddenly hesitant. "Well, it's _only _an idea, and I don't have any real proof to back it up, but I get this gut feeling that maybe . . ." Her lips curled down into a frown.

"Maybe what?"

Toph sighed. "I think Aang might be alive."

The words were so unexpected, it took Katara a moment to process them. _No, that's impossible. Azula said Aang was dead._

_And since when has Azula ever told the truth about anything? She would say that just to break you. _

_But Sokka said so, and so did Toph, before . . . _"What makes you think that?" she asked.

"Well, see, when Sokka and I made it to the catacombs, you and Sparky were already captured and being carted off to somewhere in the Fire Nation. And Aang was already . . . I mean, his glider was burned up, and there were ashes like someone had been . . . you know."

Katara nodded, fighting the tears that wanted to rise to her eyes.

"But then I realized that Azula would have no reason to burn the body that bad unless she was trying to hide something. And she wouldn't kill the Avatar knowing he'd just reincarnate into a new body. So I thought maybe she'd burned someone else up, to make it look like he was dead."

"Why would she want that?" She presented the cooked fish to the earthbender. The stick shook in time with her hands.

Toph's expression was as grave as her words. "To keep us from looking for him."

_Of course, _Katara thought, feeling numb. _Zuko was right. Azula always lies. _She swallowed. "You really think . . . Aang might be alive after all?"

Toph nodded. "And if he is, he's been in prison for a lot longer than the rest of us. If we don't break him out soon, wherever he is . . . I don't know."

Katara speared another fish and moved it over the fire. Her vision blurred with fresh tears, and she used her free hand to wipe them away. _Oh, Aang . . . I'm so sorry. _"We'll go looking for him first," she said shakily. "If he's really alive, we'll find him."

Toph heard the tremor in her voice and laid a hand on her shoulder. Katara flinched, then lowered her head to cry. "Hey, it's going to be okay," the blind girl said. "Aang survived a hundred years in an iceberg. Wherever he is, he can handle himself."

Katara raised her face to look into the flames. The sight calmed her a bit. She nodded, her face turning fierce. "Right."


	14. Escape from the Boiling Rock

Chapter Fourteen

"_I love you."_

The words echoed hollowly in his ears, a discordant melody underscored by the simmering waters below. Sokka opened his eyes, staring up at the sky. He could see the white color of the steam. _It must be getting light out, _he thought, closing his eyes again. Images of Suki, her body framed in the shiny metal of the stolen armor, flickered behind his closed eyelids.

"_Your father arrived on the gondola four days ago," _she'd said, just as she'd kicked the cooler into the boiling lake.

_Four days, and she never told me, _he thought. There were plenty of reasons to hide it from him, he supposed. Three people in a cooler would've been too much weight to carry across the lake. They might not have fit in the confined space. And Suki wouldn't have wanted to fill his head with notions of being the hero when their escape attempt would already be so perilous. Yet he still felt betrayed. _I had a right to know. She could've argued with me, and maybe I would've agreed that two separate escapes were better. And now, once again, people are trying to take care of me like I can't do anything myself._

Sokka wiped the sweat from his brow. The current was frustratingly slow, and the sultry air made him feel as if he was being steamed alive, but he had nothing to paddle with and no way to get himself to the opposite shore any faster.

So he waited, lying face-up in the cooler, for the moment he would hit the beach. While he waited, he thought about what he was going to do afterward.

_I'll need food, _he thought, stomach grumbling. _Not much could survive in the boiling lake, but maybe I can get something out of the ocean. I'll need tools if I want to catch fish. _He frowned. _I could make fishing line out of the threads in my prison clothes, but I'll need something that'll get caught in a fish's throat. Maybe one of the bolts? _He'd shoved all the metal screws left from his breakout over by his feet, to make his journey across the hot water a little more bearable.

_Okay, so I can get food. What else do I need? Water . . . Hopefully I'll be able to collect enough condensation from the steam on this cooler to last me until the next rainfall. If Katara were here, she'd be able to purify sea water, no problem. _He sighed. If Katara were here, they'd be well past the boiling lake and surfing the ocean on an ice raft by now.

_The cooler will do for shelter, wherever I end up. Unless it starts taking on water when it rains. Then I'll have to turn it over like a canoe and wait for the weather to pass. I'll also have to think of some way to actually _store_ the water I catch._

His planning was interrupted by a sudden impact at the front of the cooler. Sokka sat up, almost hitting his head on the doorframe. His eyes scanned the foggy air around him, until he saw the jutting rocks of the rocky beach he'd just hit.

"Finally," he muttered, keeping quiet in case any guards were patrolling this part of the island. He stayed in the cooler for a moment, listening for any people, then hoisted himself onto the beach. The relief of open air was so great, he took a moment to admire his freedom before turning back and pulling the cooler onto dry land. He winced as it ground against the stones. So much for stealth.

The steam would cover him from prying eyes, so long as he kept his ears open for nearby guards. He pulled the cooler a few feet inland, then abandoned it so he could get a better look at his surroundings. If there _were _guards patrolling this ring of land, they almost certainly had an encampment somewhere. _Someplace I can get supplies, _Sokka thought.

He crept up the rocky shore, staying low and moving in short bursts, when he was sure no one was watching. It seemed almost silly, given that he'd neither seen nor heard anyone yet. But Sokka was used to being laughed at, and he didn't care how stupid he looked.

The steam cleared a little bit as he crested the hill, and he was able to see more clearly. Far in the distance, a series of triangular shapes rose from the ground. _Too uniform to be natural. Tents, maybe? _

_Only one way to find out. _He started toward the triangular silhouettes, still keeping low. His caution was validated when he heard something stir twenty yards away.

Heart pounding, he retreated down the slope and concealed himself behind and outcropping of rocks. Head down, taking up as little space as possible, he waited for another sign of movement.

The sounds were unfamiliar, but identifiable. After a few repetitions, he labeled the rhythmic movement as the sound of footsteps. When he heard steel collide with rock every few steps, and the sound of a stone hitting the ground a beat later, he concluded the guards were growing bored, kicking stones during their patrol to keep themselves occupied.

Sokka laid low until the sound was well past, then peered out from his hiding place. Far away, he saw the movement of the patroller who'd passed him. He ascended the hill and started for the guard's encampment.

It was clear, when he got close, that these tents had been set up very recently. They were not well anchored, for one, and there was no smell of charcoal to indicate recent habitation. _They did this just to look for me. That means security will be tight all over the island._

The Warden had often preached the fact that no one had ever escaped the Boiling Rock. Sokka wasn't sure if he'd simply meant no one had dared to cross the lake, or if anyone who had done so had died or been captured on this outer ring. If it was the latter, that meant his chances were even more dismal than he'd imagined.

_Can I risk it? _he wondered, watching as a pair of guards exchanged news by one of the tents. _There's no way I can handle them if they see me. I don't have any weapons. _He gritted his teeth. _I should've brought the wrench with me. _

The guards parted, going in separate directions. As far as Sokka could tell, there was no one else in the cluster of tents. _It's now or never. _He hurried up the slope, anxiety warring with caution as the rocks shifted under his feet. But he made it to the encampment without being noticed.

There was one tent that was larger than the others. The difference in size made him single it out as a potential place for resources. He hesitated a moment outside the flap of the tent, feeling horribly exposed, then slipped inside.

Fate usually didn't stick with him this long. The tent was devoid of people, but rich with supplies. He started grabbing things off the shelf: skins of water, bags of dried food, spark rocks, tinder. He even found a short sword hidden under the rows of food.

_No fishing supplies. I'm really going to have to use my clothes to make fishing line. _He frowned at the development, securing everything to his belt. It jingled loudly as he moved. _Nothing to be done about that. _

Just as he was turning to leave, a familiar voice pierced the silence.

"I never pegged him for someone who'd run off," Cayenne murmured, her voice coming closer. Belatedly, he heard the soft shuffle of her feet against the rocks.

_Damn it, what am I going to do now? _

His eyes darted over each inch of the room. For a supply tent, it had ample space. For a hiding place, it was pitifully tiny.

A male voice cut in, one he didn't recognize. "It was probably all a ploy to make you complacent. They searched his room and found the spoons he'd hoarded." There was a note of accusation in the man's voice that made Sokka almost angry. How dare he criticize Cayenne? She'd done nothing wrong—she'd only been showing him kindness.

_Focus, _he reminded himself, eyes roving the room for a hiding place. From what he'd seen of the other tents, there wasn't much else of interest in this camp. This was the only place that served any function other than sleeping. Surely they were headed here.

His eyes froze on an empty crate in the corner of the tent. Without further thought, he snatched a blanket from one of the shelves and went over to the box. He crawled inside, contorting his body in the oddest positions to fit inside the tiny space, and threw the blanket over the top of the crate, hoping it would conceal his too-bright prison clothes.

Half a second after the blanket settled, he heard the rustle of the tent flap opening. _Don't see me, _he thought at them. _Don't see me. I'm not here._

"I don't collect the dishes," Cayenne said. "Someone should have been monitoring him."

"If you hadn't been so soft as to give him extra dessert, this never would've happened."

The conversation abated for a moment. Sokka closed his eyes as tight as they would go, as if that would somehow keep the guards from seeing him if they happened to notice the odd placement of the blanket. He heard them rifling through the shelves.

"Just tell the cooks to get dinner started," the man said. "The patrols will be going all night, thanks to you."

Cayenne grumbled something too quiet for Sokka to make out. He could just barely catch the sarcastic edge to the words.

Footsteps approached his little basket. Sokka tensed.

"We'll find him, wherever he is," the man said. "And next time we put him in a cooler, he won't have a wrench."

The words stirred something in him, despite the raw panic binding up his lungs. _He said "we." That means they don't know about Suki. _He exhaled silently.

"You'd better go start the next patrol," Cayenne said. "I'll bring these to the cooks and meet you in a minute."

"Sure."

Sokka heard the heavier footsteps leaving and relaxed a little bit. Cayenne flitted between the shelves, oblivious to his position. It was only when her feet came close to where he was hiding that his heart kicked into overdrive again.

_Don't see me, don't see me, I'm not here . . . _

The footsteps stopped, half a foot away from where he lay crumpled up in a box.

_I'm not here, don't see me, please don't see me . . ._

The tent fell silent. Cayenne stood there for a long moment. The feeling of eyes crawling across the back of his neck, piercing through the blanket, crossed his mind, and he repressed a shudder.

_Don't see me, please don't see me . . . _

Cayenne sighed softly and abandoned the tent.

Sokka waited, unsure if he'd heard her leave over the _thrum _of his pulse in his ears. Almost a minute passed before he dared rise from his crate. His joints cracked. The sound made him freeze. When no one came running, he eased himself into a standing position.

On his way out, he caught sight of a paddle for a canoe. He hesitated, weighing the risk of having one hand full versus the convenience of mobility in the water. Then he plucked the oar off its hook and abandoned the tent.

Making his way back was, if anything, more nerve-racking than his trip into the campsite. He avoided two more guards on the way, the extra supplies weighing him down and making it harder to hide. But eventually, he located the cooler.

He packed his supplies into the metal cylinder, pushing them to the bottom so they were secure. Then he set to work dragging the noisy thing up the hill. If there had been anyone nearby, they would've almost certainly heard the racket over the bubbling waters. But luck had carried him this far, and it carried him to the opposite shore.

He shoved the cooler into the cool ocean water, picked up his paddle, and hopped in, pushing off from the shore with his oar. As soon as he felt the lilt of the waves beneath him, the tightness in his lungs subsided. _Free at last._


	15. A Traitor in their Midst

Chapter Fifteen

They did not, at first, realize the Avatar was missing.

It was three days before the news reached Ozai's ears. If Tazia hadn't been clearing plates from the imperial table, she wouldn't have seen the royal guard whisper into the Fire Lord's ear. Wouldn't have heard the indrawn breath the firebender took upon hearing the news.

Tazia picked up another dish, this one crusted in hot sauce. A distant cousin of Ursa's had come in for a visit, bringing her two daughters with. At ages five and eight, neither of them showed signs of firebending yet, which meant they were still in the stage of trying to bend the vegetables on their plates so they wouldn't be seen under the sauce. It was somewhat of a relief for Tazia that washing dishes wasn't part of her job.

"And how did this happen?" Ozai hissed back at the guard. Tazia took this as her cue to leave. While the royal guards might know her face, they didn't likely know her name. If she wasn't around for them to point out, they'd be stuck with vague descriptions of her common hair and eye color and her status as a palace servant.

She cut through the kitchen, smiling warmly at the chef. He looked in her direction, thinly veiled contempt in his eyes.

She made it back to her chambers without being arrested. Once inside, she closed and locked the door. There were letters to write.

She sat down at her desk and pulled a fresh scroll from her drawer. And then she started writing, praying someone was still waiting on the other side to receive her letters.

Half an hour later, she was on her way to the rookery, clutching a scroll in one hand and a sheet with the Fire Lord's signature in the other. It was forged of course, as was the wax seal on the parchment.

"Another letter?" the bird-master said as she entered, one dark eyebrow arching as she approached.

"The Fire Lord's scribe is sick with the pentapox. I'm delivering messages today."

"Pentapox? I've heard that's deadly!"

Tazia shrugged. "The doctors are tending to him. Time will tell whether he survives or not." She handed the man her letter. He inspected the wax seal, but didn't ask for the edict in her other hand.

"I'll send it off at once."

She bowed, her hands making the Fire Nation symbol.

The work of a palace servant was never done; as soon as she'd fled the rookery, she returned to the kitchens. The chef glanced up at her again, his liver-spotted face twisting with annoyance. "What now?"

"The Fire Lord's cupbearer is sick with pentapox," she told him.

"I've heard that's _deadly_," the man said, the arrogant line in his jaw softening a bit.

_So they say, _she thought, combating the urge to roll her eyes. None of them were truly sick with the disease; there hadn't been a genuine case of pentapox since that isolated incident in the Earth Kingdom a few months ago. Rather, they had the _symptoms _of the disease, brought upon by a mixture of skin-irritating herbs distributed in their shampoo. Herbs commonly available in the imperial garden, near the turtle-duck pond. "I'm fetching tea for the royal guards. Two cups of jasmine, eight cups green, and two cups ginseng."

The chef frowned. "Since when have I been demoted to serving guards?" he muttered.

"They are imperial soldiers of the highest rank, protecting our Fire Lord from assassins. What right have you to refuse their requests?"

"I'm making the tea, woman. Don't be so terse." He turned away, setting to work once again.

Tazia stepped away from the doorway and loomed in the shadowed corner, all but disappearing. Servants in the Fire Nation were expected to fade into the background until their services were needed. And unless someone of a higher station demanded her presence while she was standing here, she had nothing to do but wait.

The tea took longer than she'd expected, with all the different varieties. While she knew enough of tea to comfortably serve it to herself and the other servants, she doubted the royal guards would accept tea from her if they'd known she'd made it. That was the only reason she was bothering to deal with the unpleasant chef.

"Tell them to put their orders in properly next time," the man grumbled as he thrust the tray into her hands.

"I will pass that along." She shifted the tray so it sat more comfortably in her hands, then abandoned the kitchen. Her footsteps were quiet as she moved across the metal floor. _I am a ghost, _she told herself. _I will not be seen or heard unless someone is requesting my services. I will do only what it takes to carry out my duty. I will not draw attention to myself._

As she walked down the corridor, her hand flicked up to the pocket of her robe. Normally, that pocket was used for utilities such as pens and paper, or tissues to cover tears. But tonight, it was filled with finely diced herbs from the garden. She slipped a small amount into each cup, spreading it out among the twelve tea cups while still ridding her pocket of the substance. It wouldn't do to be caught with such a volatile herb.

_I am a ghost. I will not be seen or heard unless someone is requesting my services. I will do only what it takes to carry out my duty. I will not draw attention to myself._

A girl of twelve, dressed in servants' robes, walked down the hallway. Tazia recognized her as the girl who'd replaced Ta Min after the princess had burned her to death. "Liang Chi," she called. The girl looked up, her black pigtails bobbing childishly.

"Yes, Madam Tazia?"

"I meant to bring this to the royal guards, but I'm afraid the Fire Lord has ordered me to check on his daughter. May I ask you to bring this to them instead?"

The girl looked taken aback, and Tazia cursed herself for not getting to know her underlings better. But after the barest hesitation, the girl obeyed, reaching for the tray.

"You know where the royal guards stay?"

The girl nodded. "Second floor, room forty-one. Just beyond the third dragon statue."

_Smart girl. _"Very good. Please get it to them as quickly as possible. But be sure not to spill any of it."

The girl nodded. Liang Chi never spilled tea—she would not be working in the palace if she did. But the words were normal, an almost unavoidable exchange between two servants. Expected. So she said them.

"I will do it immediately," Liang Chi said, bowing her head since she couldn't bow the normal way, with the heavy tray in her hands. Tazia returned the gesture with a full bow, much more grateful for the reprieve than the girl would ever know. If any one of the guards saw her and recognized her as the last person to go off with the Avatar, word would get back to the Fire Lord before she could do anything to stop it.

They parted. Tazia took a roundabout path to her room, crossing through the hospital wing where she'd said she'd be. When she finally made it back to her room, she closed the door and wept for the people she was about to kill.

_Author's Notes:_

_Well, you just read an entire chapter from the point of view of an OC._

_I didn't intend for Azula's handmaids to become this important, but my Muse beat me over the head with a plot bunny the other day and . . . Yeah. Anyway, if you're feeling up to it, tell me what you think of Tazia. I hope she seemed realistic, but any feedback would be nice. _

_Also, this is the last chapter I wrote while my Muse was visiting, so my updates are going to be sporadic again. Thanks for being patient, and thanks for reading!_


	16. Catching Up

Chapter Sixteen

Katara surveyed the maps, trying to take on a Sokka-like mindset. "From what that merchant said, the most secure prisons are on the bigger islands. You came from the Onyx Island Penitentiary, which is right here." Her finger jabbed at an island near the middle of the chain.

Toph looked down at the piece of paper, not seeing what she was pointing to. "Okay . . . So we're still on Onyx Island."

"Right." She slid her finger half an inch south. "And I was taken to a hospital here, to recover from Azula's lightning." She'd given Toph a brief explanation of how she'd escaped that morning, mentioning her new technique without exactly saying she'd killed someone with it. From the careful neutrality of the earthbender's expression, she wondered if Toph knew she was hiding something.

_A lot of things. I still need to tell everyone about Zuko._

_Later. I'll do it later._

"I think they were going to transfer me to someplace with higher security after I healed," Katara went on, moving her finger over the smaller islands labeled with the most notorious prisons. "This is where they used to keep water tribe prisoners. And _this _is where they keep Fire Nation traitors. If Zuko hasn't been executed, he'll probably be here. Same for Ty Lee."

Toph nodded. "If the cells are made of metal, I can get them out."

_And thank goodness, otherwise I'd have to spend an hour sawing through the bars with my bending water. _"So we'll go there first." She rolled up the map and tucked it in her backpack. She and Toph had been at the market all day, exchanging the fish she'd caught for clothes and supplies. She'd even bought a water skin to hold her bending water. "I can make a boat out of ice, and you can sit on that chunk of metal you brought over so you don't get cold. We'll be able to make it to that island before dark, if we go now."

Toph made a sound of disgust. "Great. More water."

"You can get seasick over the edge. Let's get going."

The earthbender stood and smothered their fire with a pile of sand. They walked to the edge of the water, where Katara brought up a bowl-shaped chunk of ice for them to sit in. She helped Toph aboard, and looked out to sea.

_I'm coming, Zuko._

* * *

><p>Slowly, Azula began to surface from her nightmares.<p>

A deep ache pervaded her abdomen, spreading out from some lost point of impact. She could feel the haze of painkillers, but the ache lingered, like food coloring in clear water.

As she became conscious of these pains, she was able to push her dreams away. All the old faces had reappeared in her nightmares: Mai, Ty Lee, her mother, Zuko, even that servant girl she'd burned up a few weeks ago. _What was her name? _Azula wondered, not for the first time. Fragments of memories had mingled with pain-induced fears. She doubted she'd gone a moment without nightmares since she'd fallen unconscious.

"Princess?" a voice asked, and for one wild moment, she thought it was her mother's voice. Her eyelids flashed open, then slammed closed against the flood of torchlight. In her moment of blurred vision, she was unable to identify the speaker.

"Princess, are you awake?" the voice said again. She could detect the subtle differences between this voice and her mother's, but after so long not seeing the woman who'd given birth to her, she wasn't sure how accurate her recollections were. She groaned.

The voice spoke again, the words aimed at someone else in the room. "Bring the doctors in. She's waking up."

All around her, the room filled with the staccato tap of footsteps. If she could've deafened her ears to the sound, she would have. Even if she had to face the nightmares, she wanted to sleep.

There was a faint pressure on her wrists, then her neck. Someone lifted a thumb to her face and slid her eyelid open. Irritably, she closed it again. The shapes were all blurry anyway.

"Her vitals appear normal," a new voice cut in.

_Well of course they're normal, _she thought, her eyebrows slanting down in annoyance. She had barely opened her eyes, and already, everyone was fawning over her.

"Give her space," the first voice said. Azula relaxed a bit. The voice wasn't her mother's, but it was close, and familiar. "Give her a moment to wake up."

There was more shuffling across the floor, and the sound of pens scraping across scrolls as somebody—probably a doctor—took stock of her condition. A moment later, the sound of a stool scraping against the hardwood floor pierced her eardrums. She winced.

"Is there anything you need, m'lady?"

She repressed the urge to groan. All she needed was a few minutes of rest without nightmares. But, as the question sunk in, the other needs of her body made themselves known. "Water."

"Right away, Princess."

The quick obedience allowed her to make the connection. Her eyes flashed open to see Tazia retreating from the door, an empty platter in her hands. As she watched the woman go, the doctors shifted uncomfortably around the edges of the room.

"Well don't just stand there," she snapped. "I haven't eaten in days, and my painkillers are wearing off."

The room came alive with activity for several seconds as the doctors and nurses divvied up tasks. Azula waited, wondering why they were so slow to obey her commands. Her handmaid had heard her request and obeyed it instantly. She was probably on her way back already.

The last of the doctors were just leaving when Tazia returned, with several glasses of clear liquid on a platter. "Would you like regular water, spring water, or water with fruit juice mixed in?"

"Just water," she said tiredly, taking the offered glass and cautiously sipping at the straw. Her handmaid had considered the fact that she wouldn't be able to sit up and planned accordingly. It was . . . nice. "Tell me what I've missed since the eclipse."

Tazia nodded, her face turning grim. "The Avatar escaped shortly after we brought him in to heal you." She must've seen the shock on Azula's face, because she finished quickly. "But we don't know how, only that he's not in any of the prison cells. You were taken to his prison for convenience, but brought back to the palace hospital as soon as we were able to transport you."

Azula nodded and swallowed another mouthful of the water.

"We won the battle on the Day of Black Sun," her handmaid went on, in a slightly brighter tone. "Your lightning strike ended the battle decisively, and the Dai-Li captured and imprisoned our enemies. They've each been transported to high-security prisons except the waterbender, who was transferred to a hospital so she could recuperate prior to her sentence."

"The waterbender is alive?"

A startled look flitted across Tazia's face, but her voice was neutral. "Your father wished to keep her as a prisoner of war. However, she somehow escaped the hospital. The same goes for the blind earthbender in her party."

_How? It should've been impossible for them to break out. _She frowned.

"We also have reason to believe the water tribe boy you sent to the Boiling Rock a few weeks ago has escaped."

"Are Fire Nation prisons made of paper?" Azula demanded. "How are these people getting out?"

"I don't know, Princess. I'm not privy to that information. From what I've heard at court, your father is addressing the issue."

Normally, Azula would've snapped at the woman for her lack of knowledge, but in her weakened state, it was all she could do to hold onto the glass in her hand. "What else?"

"It appears someone has poisoned the royal guards. They all fell ill shortly after the Avatar escaped. Two have already perished from their sickness."

"Are there replacements?"

Tazia's eyes narrowed. "There are," she said quietly. "They were sworn in last night."

Azula took another sip. So long as she wasn't left without protection, she didn't care if any of her old guards had died. Most of them had been growing old and frail, anyway. "Go on."

"Your father has pushed back your coronation until your condition has improved."

_Damn, _she thought. _Nothing to do about that. _"Fine. But as soon as I am able to walk, I want my crown."

"I will convey that to your father. And also . . ."

Azula's eyes flashed up to her handmaid's face. "_What_? What is it?"

"Mai's funeral . . ."

"Did I miss it?"

The woman shook her head. "No. It's later tonight. But your father wishes you not to go."

"I . . . can't go? To Mai's _funeral_?"

"Fire Lord's orders."

"I'll be Fire Lord in a matter of days!" she snarled back. "And I won't be kept from my best friend's funeral!"

Tazia's face remained calm. It was a long moment before she spoke, and when she did, her voice was unusually quiet. "If you think you will be able to walk, I can get you there."

Hope fluttered in her heart, so intense and foreign that it left her breathless. "You . . . You would risk Father's wrath so I could . . ."

"I am your servant, not your father's. I live only to serve you."

Azula set aside the glass, unable to move her gaze from the brown-haired servant. For the first time in her life, she was speechless. "I . . . I'd like that," she finally whispered.

Tazia nodded and rose from her stool. "I will ensure you get there in time, Princess."


	17. The Funeral

Chapter Seventeen

Weather often changed without warning in the tropical climate of the Fire Nation, but the timing of the storm lined up so closely with Azula's arrival that she wondered if she wasn't responsible for it.

Tazia had evidently thought of such a situation, however, because the hooded robe she'd given Azula to keep her identity hidden doubled as a raincoat.

They stood at the outer edge of the crowd, another black robe in a sea of somber colors. Like a toddler, Azula stood on her tiptoes to see the urn containing Mai's remaining ashes. There had been no body to bury by the time the hellish fire had died, and hardly enough ashes to fill a small flowerpot, let alone the intricately decorated urn at the head of the display. _Maybe there's nothing in it,_ Azula thought, suddenly lightheaded. Her medication was still tampering with her bodily functions. _Maybe her ashes are floating around somewhere in the ocean. I never made sure to have my soldiers collect her . . . _

"Why are we so far away?" she demanded of her handmaid. "I can't see."

"Your father wished you not to come. It is best not to appear at the front of the crowd, lest he hears about your attendance."

"Why didn't he want me to attend? Why even bother to make that decision?"

The brunette frowned. "It was just a precaution, in case you woke up prematurely. A schism has opened up in the Fire Nation court. Mai's family is demanding justice for their daughter's death. Your father insists that you did only what was required to carry out your mission, and refuses to pay reparations. The result is a divide between the royal family and the nobles."

"It's just one family," Azula argued.

"No. It's more than that. In refusing Mai's family their justice, your father has allowed other nobles to believe that they would be denied similar privileges in such an event. The noble families are banding together to go against the crown."

"Why didn't you tell me this when I woke up?"

Tazia was silent for a moment. "Why, Princess? Because you came so close to death, I feared your spirit had gone over to the Spirit World. Because I did not want to stress you with a conflict your father will likely mend before your coronation. Because it is my duty to serve you and you alone, however I can."

"And you do that by keeping court politics from me?"

"It was a minor struggle at most. As I said, it will be resolved before your coronation."

Azula frowned and returned her attention to the urn. It was perhaps two feet tall, and slender, like Mai. The body of it seemed to be made of obsidian, while the gold trim and Fire Nation emblem had been carefully added to the surface to give it more identifiable characteristics. Surrounding the table where the urn sat were pots of panda lilies, harvested from the edge of a nearby volcano, and tangled vines of ivy from the Earth Kingdom.

Embedded in the wooden table was one of Mai's throwing knives.

"Why is that there?" Azula asked.

"Why is what there?"

She glanced at her handmaid. "Mai's knife. Why is it there?"

"So she might have a weapon of her own in the Spirit World. So the spirits there might know her trade."

Azula frowned. "What use is a weapon to the dead?"

"It is ceremonial, Princess, nothing more."

_Who cares about ceremonies? I should have something to remember her by, since I was forbidden to come to this funeral. _Her lips sunk into a frown as a man in crimson robes stepped up to start the ceremony. Hopefully, this grim part of the ceremony would pass quickly so she could go up and look at the display to honor her fallen friend.

"_The friend you killed, you mean?" _

Azula's head whipped around at the voice, but the only one nearby with any reason to look at her was her handmaid, and Tazia was watching the ceremony.

Besides, it hadn't been her handmaid's smooth, alto voice she'd heard. Azula turned back to the urn, trying to ignore the whispers in her head.

"_If only I'd had a body left to bury," _Mai said, sounding just as bored as she had in life. _"Then the funeral would've been done the day of my death, and it would've been done on your ship instead of in this sodden plaza."_

"Go away," Azula whispered under the pouring rain.

"_Funny thing is, it wasn't even worth it. The water tribe boy escaped his cage, and your only other friend is probably being ravaged by the guards of some hellhole of a prison." _

She bristled.

"_You know it's true," _Mai went on, and Azula could almost imagine her pacing in front of her. _"You managed to destroy every friendship you ever had in less than an hour. I expected better of you."_

"Quiet."

"_Of course, you could still free Ty Lee, try to salvage whatever affection she has left for you. I wouldn't bet on it, though. You're too stubborn to apologize, and too cruel to make things right. So you're just going to let her rot in a dungeon while you're off ruling the Fire Nation. And you'll just swallow any sense of guilt you may have felt and let it poison you."_

"_Quiet_," Azula hissed. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tazia glance at her.

"Princess?"

"_Why did you even come here?" _Mai demanded, the first real shred of emotion she'd shown since the whispering had begun. _"You were the one who killed me. You obviously didn't care whether or not I died."_

"Shut up. Shut up . . ."

_"I suppose I should thank you, though." _The somber girl's voice turned bitter, mocking. _"Look up there. Behind the urn. This is the first time in years my parents have cared enough to show up to anything related to me. Too bad it had to be my funeral."_

Azula's voice wavered. "Shut up. Just shut _up_."

"Princess?" Tazia asked, her voice uncertain.

"Shut her up. I can't listen to her anymore."

"You're making a scene."

Azula opened her eyes to see the people around her staring at her face. Some with confusion and fascination, others with recognition. But despite the puzzled look on some of the faces, all seemed to be saying the same thing: _"This is your fault."_

"No. No, it's not."

"_It is," _Mai said, and Azula caught a ghost of her figure floating in front of her. _"You killed me. Now you have to live with the consequences."_

Azula backed up a step, clutching her ears to block out the words. They broke through anyway. "Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!" she shrieked. More faces turned toward her. Hundreds of eyes battered her with their accusations. "_Shut up!_"

Suddenly, there was a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from the crowd. "Come. Let's leave this place."

_Tazia, _Azula thought numbly, following the guiding hands. Her chest seized up, and for a moment, she almost started screaming again. Rain beat down on her cloak, seeping into the cloth from the edges of her hood. Her cheeks turned clammy with cold. "She won't leave me alone," she whispered.

Tazia turned back to her, her rounded face overflowing with confusion. "What?"

"She won't leave me alone! She's everywhere I go!"

"Who is?"

Azula looked into her handmaid's warm brown eyes and whispered one word. "Mai."


	18. The Isle of Coal

_Author's Notes:_

_Sorry about the slow updates. I'm taking a break off two of my other fics, though, so updates for this one should be a bit more reliable for a while. Just thought I should mention that._

Chapter Eighteen

They made landfall on The Isle of Coal just as the sun sank beneath the horizon. "Okay Toph," Katara whispered, melting the edge of their bowl shaped boat and stepping onto the shore. "You can get off now."

The earthbender slunk away from the twisted slab of metal she'd molded into a chair, her hands never leaving the ice as she climbed onto shore. Once she hit the sandy beach, she relaxed. "Finally."

Katara grabbed the chunk of metal and melted their makeshift boat. Beside her, Toph gagged as if she was about to retch.

"I hate the sea." the blind girl groaned, doubled over.

"You've mentioned that." She brought a glob of seawater to her arms and wore it as a cloak, as she'd done in the hospital. "Can you feel Zuko inside the prison?" she asked, examining the steel tower looming over the island. Toph took a few more steps inland and knelt down, resting on hand on the rocky shore.

"He's on the third level, in the innermost cellblock. There are two guards stationed outside his door, and more roaming the corridors. A lot are concentrated on the main level—that feels like a cafeteria."

"We'll avoid that, then." Katara scanned the surrounding area for any guards, though Toph was liable to detect them long before she could. When she was satisfied, she took a step forward.

"Wait," the blind girl said. Katara froze, falling into a crouch in an attempt to conceal herself. Her breathing grew shallow in response to her sudden panic. Had the guards seen them before they'd made landfall? Were they coming already?

The waves whispered to the sand as they caressed the shore.

"Ty Lee is here, too," Toph finally said.

_Why does she sound so grim? _"That's good, isn't it?"

Toph frowned. "She's near the top. It'll be almost impossible to reach her, let alone with an extra person. This prison is even higher security than the one I got sent to. We're risking enough going to the third floor for Zuko."

"But . . . We can't just leave her!"

"Quiet," Toph hissed. "You want to get caught before we even get inside?"

Katara forced her voice to remain low. "We can't just leave Ty Lee in there. We have to rescue both of them."

"I know," the blind girl said. "But how?"

Katara sat down, crossing her legs beneath her. _What would Sokka do? _she wondered, knowing her brother would've been able to come up with a plan, however complicated, if he'd been here with them. _What do we have that we can use? The metal from the prison walls, of course, and the piece of scrap Toph brought. I have my bending water. Individually, we could probably both break open a cell. But would we be able to do that fast enough to avoid being noticed by the guards?_

_No, _she thought. _Even if we managed to avoid detection that long, the noise from the breakout would draw the guards, and then whoever went would have to balance fighting with trying to free someone. There's no way we can do both rescues in one mission. _She blinked, an idea forming in her mind. She smiled. "We'll do two rescues," she said, turning to Toph. "Since Ty Lee's cell will be harder to get to, we'll go there first. The guards won't be expecting a break in from outside. Once we've secured Ty Lee, we regroup on one of the satellite islands and get ready to double back for Zuko. The guards will be flustered and on edge, which means they'll be more watchful than usual. With Ty Lee on our side, we have another pair of eyes watching out for us."

Toph nodded. "Okay. And after that, we double back for Sparky, then get the hell out of dodge?"

"Yeah. You think that'll work?"

The earthbender shrugged. "Hey, sounds good to me."

_Excellent, _Katara thought, gesturing for Toph to go ahead. "Lead the way. You'd know where we're going better than I would."

The blind girl moved quickly through the ring of foliage around the steel tower, keeping low and quiet. Katara followed, trying to quiet the soft shifting of the water over her skin. They made it to the edge of the prison without being seen. "They don't keep any watchtowers on the island," Toph said. "But there may be guards passing by on the walkways. Stick close to the wall and don't make a sound."

Katara nodded. They scampered around the edge of the prison for a while, until Toph stopped again. The earthbender lifted two fingers to her lips, extending one hand, palm out, in a command to stop. Katara stood in the shadow of the wall.

Several minutes passed, neither of them moving from that position. When Toph finally relaxed, Katara looked at her in askance.

"There were a couple of guards on the catwalk above this door. I didn't want to chance being seen."

"Okay," the waterbender said. "Let's go."

They moved, a little slower now, to the door Toph had mentioned. The earthbender pressed her ear against the door for a moment, then moved her hand to the handle. "It's locked, but I think I can get in."

Toph moved her hands over the door, fingertips brushing along the handle. Katara heard a soft _click_, like gears grinding against each other. _She must be metalbending the locks,_ the waterbender thought, peering around the corner for any sign of activity, since Toph was occupied.

"I got it." The earthbender pulled open the massive door, just enough for them both to slip inside. She closed it behind them. "Don't leave any sign of where we entered. If we're going back, it'll be nice to use the same entrance."

"What if they notice it's unlocked?"

"I broke the lock. They'll call in a maintenance worker to fix it if they see it. And if they don't notice, we have a way in."

_That makes sense. _"Let's find Ty Lee."

The next part of their break in was the most stressful. Every few paces, Toph would pause and throw herself against the wall, and a shadow would fall across the place where they'd just stood. Everything would go still and silent, as if the guard passing by knew they were there and, rather than calling for reinforcements, had made a game of their break in, waiting to see if they'd flee like frightened rodents.

But Toph's instincts proved reliable. After several minutes of fitful starts and stops, they arrived at a spiral staircase, separated from the main hallways by a locked door. The earthbender made quicker work of this lock, whether out of haste, or because she understood the locking mechanism better after the first door. The whole time, Katara hung over her, sweat slipping down the sides of her face as the stress of the situation wore on her. Twice, she had to raise her saltwater-coated arms to wipe the perspiration off her brow.

"From what I've felt, the guards prefer to use the elevators in the central part of the prison instead of these stairs. We should be relatively safe in here if we just keep quiet."

Katara exhaled, feeling as if she hadn't taken a real breath since they'd entered this prison. Her hands shook.

"Don't break down now, Sugar Queen. This is only our first rescue mission of the night. I'm not about to baby-sit you if you have a panic attack."

"I'm not panicking."

They ascended in silence. After about a hundred steps, Katara began to wonder just how high up Ty Lee was. The tower had loomed over them when they'd arrived on the island. Was Ty Lee really on the top floor?

Toph never answered, and given their need for stealth, Katara decided not to ask.

Countless stairs later, the earthbender slowed and rested a hand against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, she turned and placed both hands on the wall. "Here."

Katara stared at the wall. "There's nothing there."

"There's a fault in the metal, and a bunch of spring mechanisms. It's a secret door."

"Secret? Why would they keep the prisoner's locations a secret?"

Toph stood there a moment longer. In the dull torchlight, Katara saw her frown. "I don't know. Maybe they didn't want the other prisoners to find out she was here. Maybe since she's technically Fire Nation nobility, her imprisonment would've turned into a scandal."

"Oh," Katara mumbled, revising some of her assumptions about the younger girl. She had never assumed Toph was stupid—one couldn't be stupid and still be funny like Toph was. But she had never seen the earthbender as much of a strategist, and her sudden ability to reason reminded Katara more of Sokka than of the young earthbender she'd known.

"You can stop staring now," Toph grumbled, fingers moving over the wall. Katara heard the grinding of gears behind the surface and listened closer. "There."

The wall pushed inward, leaving a large indent. For a moment, it stayed there, and Katara was sure that was all the further it would go. Then, creaking as it went, it swung open to reveal a narrow passageway.

"She's the only one in this corridor," Toph said, her voice almost to its normal level. "Come on." They moved quickly now, almost running through the narrow hall. Though Toph's words implied momentary safety, a guard could come along at any moment and sound the alarm. The faster they moved, the less likely that was to happen.

The stale, cold air took on a stomach-turning odor as they went further down the hall. At first, it was just an irritant. Then it grew strong enough to make Katara gag. Yet she recognized it somehow. Though she'd never encountered the smell in such concentrated quantities, something about it was too familiar to ignore.

_It smells like the sewers of Omashu, _she thought, wrinkling her nose. Was this place located close to some privy shaft in the prison?

Toph led her to another concealed door at the end of the corridor. Just before Katara arrived there, the earthbender took hold of the bars and bent them out of shape, ripping one from the floor in her haste. Katara took the final steps toward the cell, another wave of the stench hitting her like a dust cloud.

When she saw the condition Ty Lee was in, it was all she could do to keep from screaming.


	19. The Tormented

Chapter Nineteen

The scent of blood and sweat and shit hung like a comforter over the cell, so strong it turned Katara's stomach. She staggered back, acid rising to her throat as her hand flew to her lips. "Oh, spirits . . ." she whispered.

A creature stirred in the back of the cell, shrinking back from the creaking bars as Toph pried them apart. The creature shook and shuddered, hoarse whimpers rising from its throat as it struggled against the chains binding its emaciated limbs. Hollow eyes flashed up to them, dull gray, like ash, and wide like dinner plates. Beneath these eyes hung darkened bags of flesh, the product of many sleepless nights. Or perhaps the black rings were bruises.

"No more," the creature mewled. Wetness budded around those glazed eyes for just a moment before that haggard face turned away. "Please, go away . . ."

The room seemed to sway under Katara's feet, like the pitch and roll of a boat over open ocean. Toph had claimed it was Ty Lee in this cell, but this thin, curled-up creature scarcely looked human—certainly not like the perky girl who had once fought alongside them.

The horror drained out of Katara's body as spots swarmed in her vision. She leaned up against one wall, breathing through her mouth as if that would rid her nose of the volatile cocktail in the air. Her legs went numb under her, knees buckling as she slid to the floor.

"Hey, Sugar Queen, I thought I told you not to have a panic attack."

The sound of Toph's voice—confident despite the grave undertones—brought Katara out of her stupor. She blinked and turned her attention to the blind earthbender.

"Are you going to help carry her out or not?" Toph demanded.

Katara stared at her. _Of course, _she thought numbly. _She can feel how thin Ty Lee is, and she can smell everything in this room, but she can't _see_ how awful it is, so it's not affecting her as badly. _She blinked, grateful that one of them, at least, would be spared the nightmares this image would bring. "Yeah. I'm coming."

She swallowed back the bile rising up her throat and turned again to the cell. The creature that had once been Ty Lee looked up at her with terrified, half-insane eyes. "Ty Lee, it's me. Katara. You know me."

The other girl shook her head. Her hair had grown out about an inch since their last meeting, enough that it whipped around at the movement of her head.

Behind her, Toph's voice rang out, more sympathetic than normal. "We're going to get you out of here." Ty Lee flinched, then shrunk back, arms coming closer to her core as if she was trying to wrap them around herself. With a jolt, Katara realized she couldn't—the chains binding the other girl's wrists were too short to allow for even that small comfort, leaving Ty Lee even more hideously exposed to the cold air.

_This is . . . This is the work of a monster, _she thought, hands clenching into fists at the injustice. Guilt flooded through her when she saw the brunette shrink back at the movement.

"Please," the girl begged, tears seeping out the corners of her eyes. "Please, no more. I just want to die. Just let me die."

Katara stepped forward. "I'm going to cut the chains," she said, peeling off her cloak of water and manipulating it into an arc. She brought it down on each length of chain, cutting close to Ty Lee without actually hurting her. The brunette didn't react as one, then the other, arm fell limp at her side, free from the chains at last. Even when she would've been free to get up and walk, she just curled up against the cold.

"Come on," Katara said, slowly extending a hand. "We're going to get out of here."

"Out?" Ty Lee echoed. Something about her voice sent a ripple of disquiet through Katara, like the word had been mutilated before coming out of her mouth. Abruptly, Ty Lee started laughing. "Out? _Out_? There is no _out_! There is only _here_, only _this_."

"Maybe they gave her something that messes with her mind," Toph said quickly. "We can worry about it when we get her out of here."

Ty Lee continued to cackle, and it was only a laugh because it didn't quite reach the pitch of a scream, and because it wasn't low enough to be a sob. A strange, alien hiccup burst forth from her lips, and she doubled over, almost choking on the inhuman giggle.

"She's going to be really hard to get out of here," Toph said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

"The only way out of here is to die!" Ty Lee cried. The tremor in her voice made her words almost indecipherable. "Kill me! Kill me! It's the only way out."

The forefront of Katara's mind rejected the option—killing Ty Lee would be monstrous, an affront to everything her mother and father and Gran-gran had ever taught her. It was _wrong_.

A small part of her wondered if killing her now might actually be more merciful than forcing her to live another minute in this torment.

"Shit," Toph murmured, and the swearword drew Katara out of her horror-induced immobility. "The guards are coming."

There was no more time to think about it, Katara swept into the cell and grabbed the acrobat by the arms. Ty Lee flinched once and went limp, allowing the waterbender to drag her to her feet. Katara hoisted the emaciated girl onto her back and positioned her spindly arms so they encircled her neck. "Hold onto me," she said, ignoring the rush of foul air as the source of the stench rested against her skin.

The guards exploded through the door—six of them, all wearing plated armor and masks to obscure their faces. Katara felt Ty Lee's hands tighten around her collarbone.

Toph's foot slammed into the ground. The sound of the impact resonated through the hallway, the ground rippling out from where she'd hit it. Just as the guards took their fighting stances, they lost their footing to the ripple of metal. "Go!" the earthbender shouted. "The stairway is clear. I'll catch up!"

Katara bolted, knowing Toph, at least, could escape this prison. _Not like Ty Lee, the way they bound her arms up . . ._

The guards grabbed for her as she passed, futilely struggling against the metal bindings Toph was bringing up from the floor. Katara slipped past them and reached the stairs.

Descending at a dead run with a person on her back was actually one of the most frightening things Katara had ever experienced. Every few steps, the extra weight would propel her legs faster than she wanted to run, and she would pitch forward. Twice, she had to use her bending water to fast-freeze her to the wall so she wouldn't tumble down the steps. After several minutes, her legs began to quake, forcing her to run at a frustratingly reduced pace. But, as things tended to do in the Fire Nation, it only got worse when the guards appeared.

Ty Lee whimpered at the sight of them, her arms convulsing around Katara's neck. The waterbender's arms shot forward, spears of ice flying from her fingertips. _We're caught,_ she thought, almost dropping her charge as a water whip snaked out from her arms. This one shredded one guard's armor, eliciting a startled scream from him. The other guards looked back, momentarily distracted. Katara sent a rush of water in their direction, knocking them down a dozen steps.

Then she was running again, moving so fast her feet tangled under her. She raced down the twisting steps, breathing hard, until finally, she came to the door leading to the main floor.

Stealth had been abandoned the moment they'd been discovered near Ty Lee's cell. Katara exploded through the door in a rush of seawater. The liquid propelled her out of the confined space and twenty feet into the hall before she stopped, not sure where to go.

"Intruders!" someone yelled, their voice muffled by a metal helm. Her head jerked up to see the speaker.

A dozen guards closed in from various corridors, surrounding her on all sides. Some had spears, while others took firebending stances. Katara spread her cloak of water out, letting it cling to the floor and rise up as tentacles of liquid.

The prison exploded in fire and ice.


	20. Another Meeting

Chapter Twenty

His cell had been pitch black for days now, the only light being that which he created on the tip of his finger. There wasn't much _to _see. His cell was four by four feet, had only a small bed to curl up in, and was ventilated by a thin air slot out of his reach. No windows, only one locked door with an opening just large enough to fit a tray of food, and nothing to do but sit and listen to the muffled yells of the inmates outside.

So when he heard a strange clamor rising near his cell, Zuko pressed his ear against the wall and listened. Crashes filled his ears, chaotic and discordant and musical all at once. _Is this a prison riot? _he wondered, knowing such exercises were futile, but hoping someone would come to break him out of here anyway.

The sounds continued, mingling with shouts of alarm and shouts of defiance. As Zuko listened, he began to wonder if this wasn't a prison riot at all. There were only a handful of voices, certainly not enough to indicate a full-scale rebellion. Were the guards really getting this worked up over only one or two prisoners? _What's going on here? _

He listened a while longer, hearing the defiant shouts again. _It sounds like one person, _he thought. _Female. Young._ His eyebrows pinched together as he listened, trying to identify the voice. Before he'd been brought down to this tiny cell, he'd had the same rights as most of the prisoners—yard time, visiting the cafeteria, access to the gym, _light_. He'd learned a lot about the other prisoners in the days before they'd decided to interrogate him, including their voices. But while the voice outside his cell sounded familiar, he couldn't figure out which prisoner it was.

Another sound reached his ears—a sound like shifting sand, or maybe waves on a beach. And then, every few seconds, a _hiss, _like that of a spidersnake. It only confused him more.

Zuko sighed softly, letting the clamor fill his ears without really being aware of what was causing it. When another sound hit his eardrums, his focus sharpened again.

It was a sort of grinding sound, like metal being twisted under the skilled hands of a blacksmith. At first, Zuko thought it was the pipes acting up again—this prison had shitty plumbing; prisoners could manipulate the system to send messages to each other. But when the sound persisted, Zuko began to wonder if he was going crazy, hearing all these sounds that shouldn't be there. "Why not," he muttered. "I haven't talked to anyone in over a week."

He stepped away from the wall and sat down on his bunk, frustrated. The clamor beyond the walls continued, along with the strange grinding sound that seemed to come from the metal itself. The second sound grew steadily closer, as if it was working its way toward him. Uneasy, he shifted away from the wall.

That was when it happened. The side of the cell ballooned out, bulging into the cramped space of his cell. Fire rose up from Zuko's palm, both to illuminate the deformity and to prepare to attack whatever abomination had caused it. A loud crash rocked the cell, and the bulge burst open, popping like a balloon being hit by an arrow.

"What the hell?" he demanded.

Something poked out of the bulge, like a living creature that had been trapped in the metal. "Hey, watch the language, Sparky."

The fire in his hands flared. "_Toph_?"

"Obviously," the girl said, clawing her way out of the metal bulge. Zuko retreated half a step, staring at the blind earthbender. "Who did you think it was?"

He blinked. _I'm crazy. I'm really crazy. _

"Plan A is going south, so I figured I'd come down here and get you before we all get killed. And look." Toph pulled something from the hole she'd emerged from. The firelight glinted off the black steel, and Zuko drew in a sharp breath. "They were on display in the guard tower," Toph told him. "But I managed to get the swords you and Sokka forged with Master Piandao."

_I didn't even realize I could go this insane this fast, _Zuko thought numbly. He'd picked up Sokka's sword after the water tribe boy had been captured, and he'd been carrying that along with his dual blades on the Day of Black Sun. He'd thought he'd lost them forever.

Toph walked over to the other side of his cell and slammed a fist into the door. It flew off its hinges and hit the opposite wall with enough force to leave a dent. Zuko stared.

"Don't just stand there with your mouth hanging open," the earthbender grumbled. "We've got to get out of here before the guards have a chance to regroup."

That was all the push he needed. As soon as the words registered in his mind, he was following after the blind earthbender, praying to Agni she knew how to get out of here. "Can you fight?" she asked.

He took a deep breath, testing each of his muscles as he ran. "Always."

Toph nodded and led them down a corridor. The sound of fighting grew louder as they approached. "What's going on?"

"Katara is fighting the guards. Ty Lee is with her."

A pang went through him. _Katara . . . _he thought, hand clutching his chest. _This must be a dream. Katara is dead. _

They turned another corner, and the source of the sound became apparent. Water flooded the hallway, shifting and writhing like a living creature. Meanwhile, the guards sent plumes of fire into the liquid, turning it to steam and giving off the distinctive _hiss_ Zuko had heard before. Beyond the wall of water were two figures, one hanging limply over the other. A quiver of recognition ran down his spine.

"Katara!" Toph yelled. "This way!" The earthbender slammed her hands into the wall. The metal peeled away like the lid of a can, and fresh air flooded the hallway.

The water shot down the corridor in a glob, then spread out, freezing the guards to the wall as it went. Zuko turned, heart pounding as he took in the figure behind the moving water. It was impossible. It didn't make sense.

But she was there. Katara was there, and alive, and when she saw him, a brilliant smile bloomed across her face. "Zuko!"

"Let's _go_," Toph urged, standing just outside the torn up wall. Zuko reached for Katara's hand as the waterbender drew closer, and she reached back.

From the corner of his eye, Zuko saw one of the guards lift his hand in a fist. A jolt went through Zuko, as intense as any bolt of lightning. Fire exploded out of the guard's hand, shooting toward Katara's back. _No, _Zuko thought, stomach dropping. _No, no, no . . ._ He stepped forward, his hand moving to counter the approaching fireball. Katara half-turned, losing her smile as Zuko moved to protect her. He braced himself just before the fireball reached him.

The pocket of hot air caressed him, so wonderfully warm after his imprisonment. Then the flames touched his skin and the world exploded in red agony.


	21. Animal Guides

Chapter Twenty-One

Aang flew for miles, soaring in the clouds where he could, and flying high above the birds when he couldn't. If there had ever been a time for stealth, this was it.

He couldn't fly forever, of course. After two sleepless nights, he'd landed on an island caked with plants. Dizzy with hunger as he'd been, it had been a miracle to find a cache of Leechi nuts before he'd curled up to sleep for the night.

He'd woken to the sound of voices and soared into the sky again without waiting to discover who inhabited that island.

At first, his only destination had been away from the Fire Nation. Any of the other nations would shelter him, if he could only make it out of Fire Nation territory. But after coming down from the sky to rest on the third day, he'd begun to wonder if that still held true. After all, he'd disappeared for months. Ba Sing Se was under Fire Nation control, just like Omashu. Sozin's Comet was only a few weeks away.

He had failed the world once, when he'd disappeared for a hundred years. Had he failed it again by disappearing for just a few months?

Since stealth was critical in avoiding capture, Aang only descended at nightfall. As the third day settled into dusk, he made camp and contemplated what that woman had said before she'd set him free. _She said that kindness and hope had become foreign concepts in this land, _he thought, leaning his new glider against a tree so he could gather berries from a nearby bush. He left the wings open, since the weather was clear. If he had to make a quick escape, the extra second it would take to unfold the delicate golden wings would only imperil him.

_What did she mean by that? _he wondered, swallowing a handful of berries. Though he didn't know the name for them, he recognized the distinct purple color of them; he'd eaten such berries before._ That even the Fire Nation has no hope of surviving this war? But they're _winning_. Why would she think that? How bad are things in the Fire Nation that she couldn't abide another year of war after it's gone on so long already? Is it the comet? _

Aang sighed and shook his head, gathering more berries and eating them as he went. His stomach was still shrunken from the meager prison rations, but he could already tell the luxury of daily meals was restoring him to health. His flesh did not stretch so tightly over his bones, and his sallow skin was regaining some of its natural pallor. After hours of flying, his muscles were becoming toned again. He wasn't _healthy _exactly, but he was much better than he had been. The only persisting problem were the dark bags under his eyes, and those would clear up once he found a safe place to sleep. _If there's any safe place left for me . . . _

He returned to his glider and took shelter under the boughs of a gnarled tree. There he sat, the night deepening around him. He didn't trust this land enough to let his guard down, but a few minutes of meditation would revive him somewhat. If he was lucky, he could steal a few hours of sleep after he relaxed.

As he sunk into a light trance, his weary mind freed itself to greater concerns. For months, his only worries had been that the guards would forget to feed him, or that someone would force him from his cell so he could be executed. He had been a prisoner in mind as well as in body. But now, in the open air, with the cacophony of nocturnal creatures all around him, his mind stretched out and reached for some familiar presence.

Before he realized it, Aang had left his body behind and was watching himself sit against the tree from afar. He hesitated, unsure if he should return to his body. He'd gone to the Spirit World before, but to abandon his body in the thick of Fire Nation territory, knowing people were hunting him down, seemed suicidal.

_No, _he thought._ That's wrong. If I'm in the Spirit World, there must be a reason for it. _He turned and started toward the edge of the island, wishing the Spirit World did not strip away his bending.

He took a deep breath, feeling the air move in and out of his lungs without gaining any real relief from it. The sensations of the living world were not always the same as those in the Spirit World, and though the lack of relief was unnerving, it was not painful. "Just relax," he murmured to himself. "You've done this before."

After another minute, he reached the edge of the island. There, he waited for some sense of purpose to come to him. He had to do something to get out of this predicament. _Maybe get directions to the Earth Kingdom? _he thought hopefully, looking out to sea. The waves shimmered under the glowing moon, their surfaces turning reflective, like mirrors. Far in the distance, another speck of light appeared. It resembled a star, despite the pale blue coloring. Aang's eyebrows came together as he stared. It seemed like the longer he looked, the brighter the spot of light glowed.

_What is that? _he wondered, taking another step onto the beach. The water lapped up against his toes, a strange sensation when he had no physical body. The point of light spread out further, now appearing almost half the size of the moon. As Aang looked closer, he could see shapes, lining up together in strange ways. Something shifted—either the light, or his own perception—and the features resolved into the head of a dragon.

"Fang!" he yelled, jumping up and down as he recognized Avatar Roku's animal guide. The dragon streaked through the air, staying close to the water as it approached. At the last moment, it rose up and twisted through the air, coming to a graceful stop on the edge of the beach. A low grumble rose from its throat, and Aang leapt forward. "You have _no _idea how happy I am to see a familiar face."

The dragon growled again, a sound similar to the contented grumble Appa often gave. _Appa . . ._ "Do you know where I can find Appa?" he asked. "Or the rest of my friends?"

Fang lowered his scaly head. His whiskers snaked out and touched Aang's forehead. At once, he was assaulted with a flood of images, some nonsensical, others clear. He saw a needle-like structure looming high above the tree line, and an island half-submerged in a boiling lake. Hundreds of trees blended together in a flurry of green and brown, losing their shape and definition as their uniform features became meaningless. Animals half-seen, some fluffy, some scaly, and some cloaked only with thick skins . . . A final image flickered to life, more vibrant than all the rest.

Aang looked down at the Fire Nation capital, flinching away from the image. Though he'd spent little time actually looking down at the city, the knowledge that he'd spent the majority of his brutal imprisonment there made the image hard to stomach.

But Fang didn't release him from the vision. So Aang watched as he spiraled down toward the island. The view shifted jarringly, and suddenly he was on the ground. Feet away, a dozen soldiers tried to bind Appa with ropes and chains. "Appa!" Aang yelled. His voice was lost to the dissonance of the Spirit World.

It didn't matter. A moment later, one of the ropes snapped, and Appa slipped free of his restraints, rising high into the air. More ropes shot out from below, falling short as the flying bison took off. One nearly caught Momo as he followed, but the flying lemur managed to dodge the coil of ropes and latch onto Appa's tail.

The scene blurred, following the flying bison through the sky. Time ceased to flow at its normal speed, instead moving much faster. Day turned to night, then to day again, in just a few seconds. Aang watched this cycle repeat several times until the scene began moving at a normal pace once more. Appa was elsewhere now, having landed on a strangely familiar section of rock. Aang stared at it for a long moment before he recognized it. "That's the Eastern Air Temple," he said, almost laughing in his shock.

The vision wavered, and suddenly, Aang was back on the beach, standing face to face with Avatar Roku's dragon. Fang withdrew his whiskers and leaned back, extending his wings as if to fly. Aang bowed deeply as the dragon rose into the sky. "Thank you."

Fang departed just as quickly as he'd arrived, flying at impossible speeds toward the east. Aang ran back to his body, feeling refreshed despite not having actually slept. As he merged once again with his body, he took a deep breath, relishing in the sensation.

He gathered a few more berries from the bush he'd found, picked up his glider, and headed for the Eastern Air Temple.


	22. Healing Hands and Healing Hearts

Chapter Twenty-Two

The flames bit the flesh of his back, and for just a moment, Zuko wasn't in a prison, but in the palace, tears streaming down his face as it burned under his father's hand.

_No more, _he thought, foot sliding out as he turned toward the source of the heat. His hands came around, pulling at the fireball, pushing it away. _I am not the child I was then._

His uncle had learned how to redirect lightning from watching waterbenders redirect the flow of the sea. Zuko remembered watching Katara work with her element, pulling it in the direction she wanted it to go like a ribbon attached to a string. Even before he'd realized he was in love with her, he'd been fascinated with the smoothness of her motions, trying to learn from them. So rather than trying to block the full force of the fireball, he concentrated on the center of the heat and _pulled_, yanking it off to the side. The fireball's path twisted in mid-flight, and left scorch marks in the wall instead of his face.

"Zuko!" Katara yelled. He felt a faint pressure in the palm of his hand, pulling him away. "We have to get out of here!"

"Right." He pushed aside the lingering sting on his back. Katara would take care of it once they were safe.

Toph had pierced a massive hole in the wall. They made it through before the guards could catch up to them. The shift from stale prison air to the fresh, tropical breeze was staggering. It rejuvenated his whole body and gave him the strength to run to the shoreline.

His heart fluttered painfully when Katara pulled her hand away, but if she noticed his distress, she said nothing. Her hands snaked out, moving with the fluid motions of her element, and pulled a chunk of ice from the tropical waters. Then she took his hand again and pulled him onto the makeshift raft, setting Ty Lee on the ice.

One look at the acrobat made Zuko realize just how much comfort his status as royalty had afforded him.

"We'd better go," Toph said, the pitch of her voice rising. "We've got company."

Zuko glanced back to see another set of guards racing out of the hole in the wall. He climbed onto the ice raft, helping the earthbender onboard. Katara raised her arms and pushed them out to sea.

The guards reached the shoreline a few seconds later, but from the spears in their hands, Zuko guessed they weren't firebenders like the other guards they'd faced. When they retreated back inside to call for reinforcements, Zuko turned his attention back to Katara. Her arms turned like the blades on a windmill, but with smoother motions. The movement was mesmerizing after so long without seeing her.

_She's beautiful, _he realized, not for the first time. Under the moon, her dark skin seemed to give off a faint radiance. Though he could not see her eyes from this angle, he knew they'd look like twin sapphires. But it was when she moved that she was most beautiful—like a painting coming to life. Every movement was sinuous, graceful even when she wasn't waterbending. Her muscles were toned, healthy despite Azula's brutal assault on the Day of Black Sun. Her hair fell in dark waves down her back.

"It's good to see you," Zuko said quietly. Katara glanced over, still rotating her arms in that windmill pattern. Her blue eyes flashed to Toph and Ty Lee, then back to him.

"Yeah. It's good to see you, too."

_She hasn't told them about us yet, _he realized, risking another glance at the other girls. Toph was curled up near the center of the boat, forehead resting against her knees. Ty Lee had moved close to the edge, and had curled up into such a small ball that, had someone only glanced at her, they would not have realized a human could fit in such a tiny space. Her body shivered, and Zuko could see the reddish-brown stains marking the colorless rags she wore. _Priorities, _he thought, turning back to the shore. Dozens of guards stood on the edge of the beach, casting fireballs in their direction, but their raft was too far out and moving too fast for the guards to make a clean shot. Zuko perched himself on the edge of the boat, ready to fend off any fireballs that came their way. His back still stung from the brief brush with the fire.

Behind him, Katara and Toph spoke in low voices. "Where should we go next?" Katara asked.

"Well, we're still missing Sokka, Iroh, Appa and Momo."

_Uncle, _he thought, shivering from such close contact with the ice. If the Fire Nation was cruel enough to break Ty Lee like this, what could they do to an aging General who betrayed their nation?

"And Aang," Katara murmured. Zuko's head shot up.

"I thought—"

She shook her head, dark hair flying everywhere. "He might be alive."

Zuko blinked. _The Avatar is alive? After all these months? _"How?"

Toph explained. "It doesn't make sense for the Fire Nation to kill him. After all, he'd just reincarnate into one of the water tribes. And technically, we didn't find a _body _at the catacombs, just ashes." She crossed her arms in front of her.

"That's it? That's your reasoning?"

"You got anything better?"

He sunk back against the edge of the boat. _Don't say it, _he told himself. _You'll upset Katara._ "No," he grumbled. "But do you even know where to start looking for him?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

It was silent for a few minutes except for the shifting waves. Abruptly, Toph moved to the edge of the boat and stuck her head over the side. A moment later, she was throwing up.

They didn't go far, which was nice because, after a few minutes sitting on solid ice, Zuko's body was beginning to go numb. Still, it seemed careless, staying so close to the prison they'd just escaped from. "Are you sure we should be stopping?"

Katara shrugged. "We need to take care of everyone's wounds."

Their eyes slid over to Ty Lee's shivering form, and for a moment, Zuko was certain they shared the same thought: _Yeah, because no one deserves to suffer like this. _

They pulled up onto the beach and Katara melted the raft. "Zuko, start a fire. We need to get some food into Ty Lee."

In any other nation, a campfire would draw undue attention after a prison escape. Here, small fires were so common, Zuko doubted any searchers would give more than a cursory examination of their campsite. He gathered some dry materials from the edge of the jungle and returned them to the beach. By the time he got back, Katara had already pulled a dozen fish from the water.

"I'll cook," he said, spearing two fish on a sharp stick. "You take care of Ty Lee."

The waterbender nodded, already pulling more water from the ocean. "There are supplies in this bag," she added, tossing him a small pack.

Zuko propped the makeshift spit over the fire, letting the fish cook while he pulled two ready-made spears from the bag. He secured two fish on the end of each, then started cooking them over the fire, controlling the flames to heat them as fast as possible without charring them.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the faint luminescence of the water as Katara mended the lacerations on Ty Lee's body. Even that quick glance revealed just how bad the acrobat's condition was. From the position and depth of the cuts, it was clear the injuries hadn't been meant to kill her, just cause her pain.

Zuko returned his attention to the fish, trying not to think about what other tortures the girl had endured since her capture a few weeks prior to the eclipse.

"Let's get you into some new clothes," Katara muttered to the other girl as the radiance faded from the water. She pulled a bundle of fabric from the bag she'd tossed onto the beach and presented it to the other girl. "It's not pink, but . . ."

Zuko listened for Ty Lee's reply. The acrobat was silent.

Toph sidled up to the fire, her expression grim. Zuko handed her a fish without a word, then brought two more over to the others. Katara had just finished pulling a deep red dress over Ty Lee's emaciated frame.

"Here," Zuko said, handing the acrobat the larger of the two fish. Something like panic shot across Ty Lee's face, and her arms drew inward, as if to protect herself.

"It's okay," Katara assured her. "Zuko's with us, remember? It's okay."

Ty Lee shook her head, eyes wild. Her mouth opened wide, almost like she was about to start screaming, but no sound came out.

Katara plucked the spit from his hand. "I'll take care of it," she told him. "Why don't you go look for more firewood?"

Zuko looked down, then started for the jungle. Once past the first line of trees, his pace slowed. Feeling numb, he started pulling branches from the surrounding trees. While Katara had been right about needing more firewood, he knew that wasn't why she'd sent him away. It had been because his presence had upset Ty Lee. Even though he'd never done anything to harm the acrobat, she was irrationally, intensely afraid of him.

He knew. He knew the extent of what they'd done to her in that prison. _When I'm Fire Lord, that will be the first thing to stop, _he thought, ripping a branch off one of the trees with more force than necessary. As it splintered and broke off, the momentum threw him backwards. His damaged back hit the dirt hard enough to send fireworks of pain through his body.

For a while, he just laid there, enduring the nagging pain of his injuries. He breathed deeply, puffs of fire shooting out from his nostrils. "Damn it . . ."

"Need some help?"

Zuko tilted his head back, and found himself looking, upside-down, at Katara's face.

"Yeah. Maybe a little bit."

She approached as he sat up. Her hand went to the water skin at her hip. _She got a new one, _he thought irrelevantly as the soothing water moved across his back.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt defending me."

"I don't mind. I'd do anything for you."

The water warmed, and the pain of his burns receded. They'd just been minor burns, nothing compared to some he'd experienced before, but the relief was so potent, he moaned.

"Is this okay?" Katara asked uncertainly. He reached behind his back and trailed his fingers across the back of her hand.

"It's fine."

Her hands hesitated a moment more, then moved against the skin of his back. "I thought you were dead," he whispered, finally able to voice the thought as her hands moved against his bare skin. She was tangible. She wasn't lost to him forever.

"It's lucky I'm not." Her chin rested on top of his hair, her hands still moving in slow circles across his back. They sat like that a while, the pain draining away after the first few minutes. His back tingled under her touch, mourning the sudden absence when she removed her hands to store her bending water in the water skin. It was only a brief sense of loss, however. A moment later, her arms wrapped around his torso, her chin moving to his shoulder.

"I love you," she murmured, her lips finding the side of his neck. Zuko shivered, raising his palm to cup her cheek. Even this small touch seemed astonishingly intimate after their separation.

"Yeah," he murmured, as she kissed him. "I love you, too."


	23. The Eastern Air Temple

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Hey, Sokka, roll that barrel over to the holding tanks," the captain called, leaning out of the wheelhouse window.

Sokka hurried over to the indicated barrel and tipped it on its side. The lobstercrabs within sloshed around as he rolled it up the deck. The crustaceans spilled out in a waterfall of red as he poured them into the holding tank.

He'd spent four days traveling in the cooler, rationing his food and water while paddling east toward the Earth Kingdom. The trip would've taken weeks if the Earth Kingdom fishing vessel hadn't pulled the cooler from the choppy waters. It had taken almost an hour to convince the deckhands he wasn't Fire Nation, and another half hour before the captain came down to see why his fishermen weren't working. The captain had merely stared at him for a few seconds before telling him to get to work if he wanted dinner.

Sokka returned to the sorting bin, where the others were emptying appropriately sized lobstercrabs into barrels and discarding the rest over the edge of the boat. He replaced the full barrel with an empty one and pushed the full one to the tanks. The labor made his stomach snarl, but he'd been working on boats ever since he'd been old enough to walk, and despite almost a year away from the Southern Water Tribe, he quickly adjusted to the routine.

When the captain called out the window to announce dinner, Sokka emptied the last full barrel into the tanks and hurried after the other crewmembers. In a matter of seconds, the deck was clear, and the inside of the ship overflowed with people. He followed the other deckhands, watching to see what they ate and what they didn't.

At the center of it all was a boy no older than Sokka, with dark brown hair and black eyes. Though Sokka had seen him on deck earlier, it took him a moment to realize the boy had retired early to make dinner for everyone. He handed out steaming plates of vegetables, cups of tea, and, most importantly, thick slabs of steak. Sokka plated one of those and started shredding it apart so he could eat it.

_I've been eating prison rations too long, _he thought, savoring the tender meat as it slid down his throat. "I think I'm in heaven."

"Zou is our best cook," one of the deckhands said. "He cooks every day."

Zou nodded, sitting down at the edge of the table with a plate of his own. "Anything that gets me off deck sooner."

A different deckhand laughed. "Not doing so well over the open ocean, are you?"

"Firebenders weren't meant to live on the ocean."

Sokka coughed, almost choking on his steak. "You're a _firebender_?"

Zou blanched, as if someone had just stabbed him with a steak knife. "I can explain," he said quickly—desperately. One of the other crewmembers rested a hand on Zou's shoulder.

"He's the bastard son of an Earth Kingdom woman and a firebender," the man said, watching Sokka warily. The atmosphere had shifted, the rest of the crew orienting themselves around the black-eyed boy. Their faces seemed made of flint.

Sokka looked down at his plate, trying to think of a way to dispel the sudden tension. After a moment, he said, "Well, he makes excellent steak."

* * *

><p>Having a destination in mind allowed Aang the rare luxury of anticipation. With every mile he flew, it became easier and easier to soar. <em>I'm coming, Appa, <em>he thought, tilting his glider slightly to correct his course. Though he'd known his general location from the position of the sun, he could now see the familiar islands surrounding the Eastern Air Temple. His heart started pounding faster, his new glider slicing through the air.

He'd been free ever since that woman had liberated him from the prison, but this was the first time he actually _felt_ free since the Crystal Catacombs.

The familiar chain of islands led him in, and he flew low enough that, if he'd reached his hand out, he would've been able to touch the water. He knew that if he came in from the right angle, the Eastern Air Temple would seem to appear from right between the rocks.

It did. As Aang drew nearer, the mountain rocks opened up to reveal a sculpted disk carved out of the mountainside. Even if he hadn't visited this temple before, he would've guessed it had been built by the air nomads from the pale green coloration and artful simplicity of the shapes. The monks preferred simple architecture that allowed them freedom of movement as well as freedom of mind. This was exactly the kind of place they would've constructed.

Aang flew closer, circling once around the exterior of the temple in case Appa was waiting outside. His heart sunk a little when he didn't see the flying bison, and as a result, his glider dropped a few feet. He decided to land before his depression caused him to crash.

This glider folded up just like the other one, the wings retracting with a single, swift spin, or with a quick flip of the switches at the tail and tip. After days of flying, however, Aang had identified several minute differences that set it apart from the glider Azula had burned in the catacombs. This one was slightly heavier, and more sturdy. Rather than merely being sanded down around the edges, the wood had been treated and stained, making it immune to all but the most severe weather. The handholds were slippery compared to his other glider, but fit for each of his fingers. Despite the extra weight of the frame, it flew better than his previous glider, obedient to every muscle twitch.

Technology had changed drastically in the hundred years he'd spent in an iceberg, but the changes had been implemented so subtly on his new glider that he felt almost as if he'd owned this one as long as the original.

He folded the wings in and secured the instrument to his back with a loop of fabric. He'd taken some clothes from an unattended clothesline a few days ago, knowing he couldn't travel the world in his prison garb forever. Given his position near the Earth Kingdom, he'd selected a dull green tunic to blend in. If people hated him for disappearing again, it was probably best to keep a low profile.

Once his glider was secure, he walked toward the interior part of the temple, hoping to find Appa curled up inside. But the temple was quiet.

"That's okay," he told himself. "That just means there aren't any enemies here."

The words echoed off the walls, like the voices of the dead. A seed of disquiet sprouted in Aang's stomach. Last time he'd been here, Guru Pathik had taught him how to open up his chakras. While that hadn't exactly gone well, he hadn't expected the man to leave so soon.

_Unless something happened, _he thought, his unease becoming more pronounced. "Appa?" he called, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in the silence. "Appa? Momo? Guru Pathik? Anybody?"

The stone walls echoed him in answer.

Aang pulled his glider from the sash on his back and held it out in front of him, ready to use it to defend himself or flee, depending on the situation. "Appa? Are you here?"

Something shifted deep inside the temple. Aang tensed, then approached, going silent in case whatever it was turned out to be hostile. As he moved through the massive rooms, he contemplated his options. He could circle around and see if he could identify the source of the sound without having it notice him, or he could wait for it to come and find him. Either way, he had to see it eventually to determine whether it was Appa or some other creature.

Something skittered across the floor in front of him. His hands moved automatically, pointing his glider out in front of him and sending a wave of wind toward it. The white creature shrieked and retreated, flying upwards and clinging to one of the stone pillars. As it chattered in fear, Aang almost dropped his glider. "Momo!"

The winged lemur made a series of furious noises, then swooped down and landed on Aang's shoulder, tail twitching. "It's so good to see you, Momo."

Momo ran his paws through Aang's hair. His claws pulled painfully at the brown curls, and Aang made a mental note to shave his head again at the next opportunity.

Something else shifted deeper within the temple. Momo abandoned his shoulder and flew off toward the sound. Aang followed, more at ease knowing Momo, at least, didn't fear whatever else was inside. In fact, the flying lemur's quick action made it easy to guess just what was residing in the inner chambers.

As he entered another room, he caught sight of a massive ball of fluff dominating the corner of the room. The familiar patterns in the fur and sheer size of the creature made identification so easy, it was automatic. "Appa!" he yelled, much louder than before.

The flying bison stirred from his slumber and rolled over, shaking out his coat. He turned, his six legs moving gracefully over the stone floor despite his apparent grogginess. When the creature caught sight of Aang, he let out a loud grumble and charged.

Aang retreated from the advance, wondering if, after months of separation, Appa had forgotten him. When he felt a sticky tongue wipe the length of his shirt, however, he fell backwards and laughed. "Appa, you're okay."

The flying bison grumbled, allowing the airbender to climb on top of his back. Appa's fur flowed like water under his fingers.

"It would seem we have a visitor," a familiar voice commented. Aang turned, a wide smile splitting his face. He bowed deeply.

"It's good to see you again, Guru Pathik."


	24. Promises

_Author's Notes:_

_Good news and bad news:_

_Bad news: I won't be able to update this story for over a week._

_Good news: this chapter has Katara and Zuko in it, so you can finally enjoy some of the romance you signed on for._

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Four<p>

The captain must've been feeling merciful, because after only a few hours on deck, he called them to the bunks to rest.

Sokka let the last barrel of lobstercrabs flow into the holding tank, then followed the rest of the crew inside, wondering if he'd have to sleep on the floor. Though this boat was larger than any boat he'd boarded,(except for those he'd been kept prisoner on) most of the space was taken up by the engine room, kitchen, and other essential areas. Quarters for the crew were a tight squeeze even on a vessel this size.

The firebender named Zou slowed, glancing back as if waiting for him to catch up. When he did, Sokka realized just how young the boy was. _Younger than me, _he thought. _Maybe even younger than Katara. _

"Our last greenhorn quit early in the season," Zou said conversationally. "He was our bait guy for two hours before he broke down."

Sokka nodded, only half paying attention. As soon as he landed on Earth Kingdom soil, he'd try to find a boat to take him toward southern waters, where he might regroup with the rest of the water tribe warriors. If Suki had been right about his father being brought to the Boiling Rock, he'd need support from the remaining warriors to rescue him.

"That means there's an extra bunk for you," Zou was saying. The comment drew Sokka out of his reverie. He glanced up at the firebender.

"Really?"

Zou smiled, pulling the door to the crew's quarters. The hinges groaned. "There's an extra sleeping bag in the corner. That's your bunk, if you want it." He pointed, then climbed up onto the bunk above that. "The captain usually lets us sleep about four hours before we have to get back to pulling lobstercrab pots. Better get to it."

"Thanks," Sokka said, unrolling the offered sleeping bag.

"Don't thank me," the other boy said, his voice suddenly shifting from cheerful to solemn. "My father's people burned this world to the ground."

"That's not your fault. Besides, I have a friend from the Fire Nation." _If he's still alive._ "They're good people."

"No," Zou said, rolling over on his bunk. "They're not."

Sokka tried to think of a response, but there was little he could say to convince a firebender that his own people were not evil, especially since he seemed so thoroughly convinced. Instead, Sokka just removed his hair knot and said goodnight.

* * *

><p>"How?"<p>

Katara opened her eyes. For the past fifteen minutes, she'd been resting her chin on Zuko's shoulder, leaning against his back so she could be in as much contact with him as possible. "What do you mean?"

"How did you survive Azula's lightning bolt?" he asked. His head tilted back just a bit, his soft hair grazing her cheek.

She hesitated, remembering that moment in the palace, right as the lightning had passed through her heart. She had no ability to redirect lightning despite the technique being similar to her own techniques. Right when the lightning had hit her heart, though, something had shifted in her. As if instinct had taken over. Without a conscious thought, she'd started circulating the blood of her body through different channels, bending it almost as easily as she could bend water. Healing from the inside out, without ever tipping off the doctors.

_Would I have died if I hadn't done that? _she wondered. A darker thought eclipsed the first: _Would that man at the hospital have died if I hadn't survived?_

It seemed ridiculous to ask herself those questions when she already knew the answers.

"Katara?" Zuko murmured, calling her back to the present.

"I healed myself," she began, unsure how much of those events she wanted to share. Even with Zuko—Zuko, who she loved, who loved her back—it just seemed too personal. "It was sort of an accident. I had cut my finger before the eclipse one night when I was making dinner." She felt him make a face, but went on. "I didn't know _what _I'd done at first. When my hand moved over the blood, it _moved_, just like water."

"You can do that?"

"I didn't know!" she squeaked, panic fluttering in her heart. _What if he thinks I'm a monster?_ "I was just . . . I started doing some experimenting—trying to move the blood on purpose. After a realized I could do that, I tried to heal the cut on my finger. The repair was seamless, like I'd never gotten cut in the first place.

"So when Azula shot me full of lightning, I did the same thing, on a bigger scale. I wasn't even conscious of it, but I'd learned the technique, and I could feel myself healing, so . . . So that's what I did, every minute I was conscious until I woke up in the hospital." She exhaled, breathless.

"You were _conscious_ through that whole thing?"

She blinked in surprise at the intensity of his voice. "For a while after, anyway. I think I remember being put on a stretcher." Zuko shifted, his lips brushing against hers as he turned to face her. His hands cradled her cheeks, as if her face was made of glass. For a long moment, he said nothing, merely gaining control of his breathing.

He looked down and sighed. "That must've been terrible."

Katara's eyes flickered toward the beach. "Not as bad as what happened to Ty Lee."

Zuko nodded. "No, maybe not. But I hate hearing you were hurt."

She shrugged. "We're at war, Zuko. People get hurt. People die."

Some emotion flashed across his face, too quick for her to identify. Abruptly, he turned away, wrapping his arms around his legs and staring at the ground. The scarred half of his face was the only side visible to her now. "How are we going to end this war?" he asked. "What's the plan?"

"I don't know. I still don't have any idea if Sokka's alive to make a plan. We might still find Aang, wherever he is, but . . ." She trailed off.

"But you don't know what condition he'll be in."

_Or if he's really even alive, _she thought. "Right. So we can't rely on that right now." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Ty Lee's going to need constant attention for a while. Toph and I can switch off taking care of her, but I'm going to have to be there for any medical stuff."

"And I can't be around her."

_No. Not while Ty Lee is still so traumatized._ "Sorry."

Zuko stared at the ground a moment longer. Katara followed his gaze, wondering what he found so interesting about the dirt. When she saw nothing, she figured this was, for him, the equivalent of staring at an empty wall.

"We'll face the Fire Nation again," she said. "We'll go in with a better plan. We'll take the Fire Lord and Azula out separately, if we have to. We'll win."

"My father—" Zuko began, then hesitated, biting down on his lip. It was a moment before he spoke again. "My father always thought I was a failure. That I wasn't ruthless enough to lead the Fire Nation, that I wasn't bold enough to face my people. But that's not the kind of leader the Fire Nation needs now. My people need someone who has seen these injustices firsthand, and wants to fix them. I could do it—" He broke off again, hesitation evident in every twitch of his muscles. "But I'd rather do it with you."

Katara laid a hand between his shoulder blades. "So would I."

He turned to her, his gold eyes blazing. "I love you, Katara. I will never be ashamed of that. So let's not keep it a secret anymore."

She thought of Toph and Ty Lee on the beach; of Sokka and how he'd disapprove of any relationship she got into, but especially this one, with the exiled prince of an enemy nation; of Aang, who had once looked at her the same way Zuko was looking at her now, but without expectations.

She owed them her honesty.

Her hand reached out for Zuko's, her fingers wrapping around his palm. "Okay. We'll tell them tomorrow morning."

He leaned over, pressing his lips against hers until she ran out of breath. "Thank you."


	25. Consequences

_Author's Notes:_

_Hey guys, I'm back! I had a great time in Chicago. My band performed at the Field Museum, and we went to see the Blue Man Group, who were amazing. Anyway, I'm glad to be back writing fan fiction, and I hope you enjoy this chapter after a week of no updates._

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Five<p>

Azula sat on her bed, waiting.

Hours had passed since the funeral, hours she had spent mostly in self-imposed isolation, waiting for her father to summon her. The only interruptions had been made by her handmaid, Tazia, and those had been to bring her tea and something to eat. Apart from that, she merely sat on the edge of her bed, or paced the length of her room.

Like a princess pacing in her tower.

She'd brushed her hair since the funeral. The rain had frizzed the silken strands, and the hooded cloak she'd worn to conceal her identity had left the back of her hair in a matted disarray. Any other time, she would've gone down to the royal spa to have her servants brush the tangles out, cleaning and styling her hair as they went.

Not now. Now, she wanted to be alone in case Mai started speaking to her again.

_People would think I'm crazy, _she thought, pivoting on her left foot so she could pace the length of her room again. For the first time ever, her suite seemed too small, the walls so close together that they seemed likely to cave in.

There was a knock on her door.

She looked over, heart contracting painfully in her chest. _I haven't recovered from the battle yet. That's all_. "Yes? Who's there?"

It wasn't a voice she recognized. "Fire Lord Ozai has summoned you to the throne room."

The pressure in her chest intensified, then relaxed. She donned a calm mask and approached the door. "I'll be there momentarily."

She paused at the door—not hesitating, never hesitating—to collect herself, then stepped outside. One of the palace servants waited outside, his face grim. "Take me to the throne room," she commanded, not even bothering to look at him.

He nodded. "Of course, Princess."

They walked down the corridors, their footsteps echoing off the metal walls. Though Azula knew her way to the throne room, it would've been dishonorable to show up without a proper escort. _I should have a row of royal guards behind me, _she thought. _Not a single palace servant. What is the meaning of this? _

They reached the throne room. Her father was just dismissing a man in red and gold robes. _Someone of nobility, _Azula guessed. From the man's expression, he was not thrilled about how his meeting with the Fire Lord had turned out.

"Azula," her father greeted her, when the door closed.

She lowered herself to her knees, bowing her head in respect. "You summoned me, Father?"

"I was told you attended that girl's funeral. Is this true?"

Azula could lie seamlessly, but she didn't dare do it now, in case her father had proof of her presence there. "It is true."

The Fire Lord nodded curtly, rising from his throne to walk across the platform. The curtain of fire separating them flared up wherever he passed, the base of the flames turning blue. It was almost a minute before he spoke again. "Your handmaids told you I ordered you not to go, yes?"

She said nothing.

"Do you take my commands so lightly?" he demanded, turning to walk the other way. His piercing eyes rested on her for a fraction of a second, just long enough to paralyze her where she knelt. "Did you not see the wisdom of staying away from the funeral when the court is in disarray?"

She said nothing.

"To say nothing of the fact that you should not have even left the palace in your condition . . . Tell me, Daughter, what makes you think you can disobey me so casually and not suffer the same fate as your brother?"

_Because I am the favorite child, _she thought. "Because Zuko was weak, and I am not."

"Yet you speak to the skies as if they hold some answer for you, and rage at them until others begin to wonder to whom you're speaking to. What must that look like, Azula?"

_Madness. Insanity. _"I don't know, Father."

The wall of fire suddenly doubled in height, hissing. "The royal family has never been in a more precarious position!" her father snarled. "Right now, there is a schism at court. For the first time in centuries, the noble families are banding against the royal family, demanding recompense for actions _you_ committed. If you had not been such a fool as to burn that girl to death out in the open, the Fire Nation would not be in such peril."

Azula flinched at the accusation, at the memory of Mai's burning.

"And in the face of all this, you have the audacity to disobey _me_? Did you not learn anything from your brother's scarring? Did you think that you would be spared all consequences because he was an unfit prince?"

_What is he saying? _Azula wondered through the haze of anger. _I was _right _to go to Mai's funeral. I did what I had to do on that mission. It's _his _fault for not paying reparations to the noble families. _

She refused to voice those arguments, protesting instead with her silence.

"Yet you are my only remaining heir," said the Fire Lord, his voice quiet, controlled. "And unless I choose to foster another child at this point in the war, you will remain as such. So I cannot banish you as I did your brother." He turned to her, his face unreadable. "Instead, I am cancelling your coronation as Fire Lord."

"_What_?" she demanded, her voice an octave high in indignation. _How dare he take that from me? I deserve that title!_

"I can see now it was unwise to consider you for the role at this early age. So your coronation is cancelled until further notice."

"Further notice? When—"

"That means when I am dead, Azula. No sooner. And if I do father another child in that time and find them more fit to rule than you, they shall have the crown, regardless of your birthright. Do you understand?"

Part of her wanted to scream, to strike her father down as she had that pathetic, disrespectful servant. The other part of her quickened with an urge to flee, to escape this nightmare before it could get any worse.

Instead of doing either of those things, she rose from her crouch, standing as stiffly as she could in her broken body, and glowered at her father. His jaw flexed at the show of disrespect, his eyes burning gold.

_You can take nothing more from me, _Azula thought. _This is all you can do to me. If I can endure this, I've won. _She turned without a word, without even being dismissed, and left the Fire Lord alone in the throne room.


	26. The Face of an Unknown Ally

Chapter Twenty-Six

Their ship docked at three in the morning.

Sokka felt the familiar lurch of a boat coming into port and sat up, almost hitting his head on the bunk above him. For a few seconds, the only sound in the world came from the waves hitting the hull. Then, he heard the captain's voice over the loudspeaker. "Wake up everybody. We've got lobstercrabs to unload."

There was a collective moan from the deckhands. Soft snores filled the air, coming from all those who hadn't woken with the command.

"Hey, Sokka, wake Zou up, will ya?" one of the deckhands asked. Sokka swung his legs over the edge of his bunk and clung to the ladder as he stood. The boat rocked under him, at the mercy of the waves now that the engines had shut off.

He prodded the firebender's shoulder. "C'mon. It's time to get up."

Zou stirred, looking even younger than usual in his relaxed state. After a few seconds, his eyelids slid open. "Ugh."

"It's time to unload."

The firebender sat up, rubbing his forehead. His hair was plastered to his head by a thin sheen of sweat, and his face looked unnaturally pale in the candlelight. When he didn't jump down from his bunk, Sokka lifted one hand to pull the boy from the bed. As their skin touched, he ripped his hand away in shock. "You're burning up!"

Zou groaned, slicking his hair back.

Sokka had seen sick people before. Most of the time, Katara and Gran-gran had taken care of them. But some signals were just too obvious to ignore. "Come on. I think it's time to get you off this boat." He turned to the other deckhands, who were donning their raincoats. "Does anyone know if there's a healer near here?"

"The captain could take care of it, but he'll be busy all day making sure we didn't go over our quota," one of the men said. "You're better off going to the port healers. Their building should be marked." He turned to Zou. "You okay, kid?"

"I can still work," the firebender mumbled, climbing down the ladder from the top bunk. Halfway down, his foot slipped, and he fell backwards, hitting the floor with a thud. "Ugh . . ."

Sokka knelt down beside him and hoisted the smaller boy to his feet, letting the firebender lean against his shoulder. The air shimmered with a heat mirage near the boy's forehead. "I'll take him to the healers and have him back as soon as his fever breaks. Can you tell the captain?"

"Sure."

The other deckhands cleared the room, and Sokka half-carried, half-dragged Zou down the corridor and on deck. His breathing seemed to come a little easier once he was out in the more temperate air. "I've never seen someone with a fever this high," Sokka commented, wondering if firebenders just had naturally higher temperatures. Then again, he hadn't sensed any unusual heat from Zuko the night they'd sparred at Piandao's castle.

"I guess I'm kinda sick . . ." Zou murmured.

"Don't worry. We'll find some healers, and they'll give you something to cool down." _Maybe frozen frogs, _he thought irrationally.

They reached the edge of the deck. The buoys cushioning the side of the ship had pushed the edge of the deck almost four feet from the docks. A manageable jump for a healthy person, but with Zou clinging to him, Sokka wasn't sure if they could make it across. "Hey, can you jump?"

"Yeah . . . Hmm." The firebender observed the gap, his black eyes seeming to sharpen as he stared at the waters below. His fingers tightened around Sokka's shoulders. "I can jump that, no problem."

With the slur in the boy's voice, Sokka wasn't so sure. _If Katara were here, she could just make an ice bridge. _He frowned. Katara was probably somewhere in the Fire Nation, getting ready for a post-eclipse attack. _Or dead. That's always a possibility. _

"On three," Sokka said, looking to the firebender for confirmation.

"One," Zou said.

"Two."

"_Three_." They jumped the gap. To Sokka's surprise, they landed on the dock with little fanfare. In fact, Zou had overshot the landing by almost two feet, landing on the center of the dock instead of the edge. _He's strong for his age. _

Zou pointed, seeming more aware now. "I think there's a medical center this way."

"Okay. Lead the way."

Keeping a firm hold on his shirt, Zou led them down the dock and into the labyrinth of warehouses. After a few blocks, Sokka began to wonder if the firebender even knew which harbor they'd docked in. "Are you sure this is the right way? This is just a bunch of warehouses."

Faster than his eyes could track, Zou spun to face him. Sokka felt the pressure lift from his shoulder and move to each of his hands. His body jerked, struggling automatically against the other boy's hold as his back hit a wall. "Hey, what—"

"Listen to me very carefully, Sokka," Zou hissed. "The Avatar is alive, and he's escaped the Fire Nation."

_Aang is alive? _he thought, too stunned to process anything else.

Zou swept on. "I'm part of a group of Fire Nation rebels. We know the Avatar was captured in Ba Sing Se, not killed, and one of our spies within the palace set him free. Now—" His grip on Sokka's wrists tightened just as the water tribe boy was about to open his mouth.

He closed it.

"Now," Zou went on, in a more controlled voice. "We have information that suggests he was heading toward the Earth Kingdom, but no one in this territory has seen him yet. But you were a member of the Avatar's party, yes?"

The firebender seemed to be waiting for an answer, so Sokka nodded.

"So I'm compelled to ask: do you have _any _idea where the Avatar might be, if not here?"

Sokka stared at the younger boy, mind working furiously to keep up. From Zou's words, he could assume there was a rather impressive network of rebel forces both within the Fire Nation and in the other territories, and that they had at least some interest in tracking down the Avatar. But Zou had also said one of his own had freed Aang from a Fire Nation prison, which indicated they weren't hostile. _They know about me. They must know about Katara and the others. Maybe even about Zuko. _He frowned, wondering if the prince had known about this rebel organization before joining the group, or if they were completely separate events.

_Either way, they have information I don't. And if Aang is alive, both of us would benefit from finding him. Besides, if these rebels turn out to be hostile to us, Aang knows enough to get us out of trouble. Probably. _

"Let me think," Sokka said.

Zou stepped back, releasing his hold on Sokka's wrists. The water tribe boy massaged the joints there, wincing. "You're stronger than you look," he murmured, flipping through a mental list of possible locations. _If Aang had freedom of movement, he would probably try to find Katara first. _"Do you know my sister's last location?"

The question seemed to surprise the firebender. "A few days ago, she escaped from a Fire Nation hospital. She was scheduled to be sent off to a prison the next day."

Sokka repressed a shudder. "So she's somewhere in the Fire Nation."

"I don't think she could've traveled far without the flying bison."

He blinked. "Appa's not with them?"

Zou shook his head, his messy brown hair waving in front of his eyes. It was almost dry now, not plastered down by sweat like it had been a moment ago. Belatedly, Sokka realized his supposed fever was nothing but a trick to get them both off the boat. _That's really smart, _he thought, reexamining the boy.

"Your mother's not really from the Earth Kingdom, is she?" he asked bluntly.

Zou's eyes darkened. "No. But I _am _the bastard son of a firebender."

_He's probably been kicked around all his life, _Sokka thought, remembering how bastard children had been treated in the South Pole. The adults had done their best to treat them just like any other child, but the other kids would torment them relentlessly once they were old enough to understand what it meant to be a bastard child.

"Don't you dare pity me," Zou snapped. "People have been through a lot worse than I have in this war."

"Sorry," Sokka said quickly, focusing. "Do you happen to know where Appa is, then?"

"Last report was that he was flying over the Earth Kingdom."

_Then Aang was chasing after Appa, expecting us to be with him. Of course. A flying bison would be easier to track than a person; it's such a strange sight, people would have to talk about it. But where would Appa _go_? _

The answer came to him almost instantly. "They're at the Eastern Air Temple."

Zou blinked. "The Eastern Air Temple?"

Sokka nodded. "Aang once told us that all sky bison were born in the area near the Eastern Air Temple. And that's one of the few places that the Fire Nation hasn't touched since the beginning of the war. If Appa was headed this way, that almost certainly means he was looking for the Eastern Air Temple."

"And you think we'll find the Avatar there?"

"You can call him Aang," Sokka said. Using the boy's first name instead of his title would probably make the transition a little easier. _If Zou turns out not to be hostile. If Aang is there at all. _"And since he's been in prison so long, we can assume he's not up to date on what's going on. He'll go looking for Appa, thinking the rest of us will be there, too." _And what about when he finds out we're not? Where will he go then? _

"We have to hurry," Zou said, glancing down the empty alleyway between warehouses. "Will you take me there?"

"Can I trust you?"

Zou hesitated, his face suddenly vulnerable. He didn't answer.

"Are you trying to overthrow the Fire Lord? Or are you after something else?" Sokka asked.

"That's part of it."

"What's the other part?"

Zou looked up at him, his expression unreadable. "To stop the fire that's been burning away in the Fire Nation for almost a century."

Sokka stared at him for a long moment, trying to find meaning behind that statement. It sounded almost rehearsed, as if Zou was just repeating something that had been drilled into him for years. But the firebender looked completely serious, not at all the child Sokka had labeled him as before. _He's . . . like me. Like I was. Eager to fight in a war that people tell you you're too young to worry about. _

Sokka smiled grimly. "All right. Let's go."


	27. The Letter

_Author's Notes:_

_I think you've all realized that this story has become _much _more than a Zutara romance. But personally, I like it better that way._

_It's hard to say for sure, but I think this fic will be longer than _The End of Hope_. Since everyone's been separated so long, there are several branching plotlines that each demand their own POV characters. Even so, I hope to finish this before the end of the school year so I can get back to writing _Frigid Feelings.

_Enjoy._

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Seven<p>

Tazia locked her door and threw the scroll down on her bed. _Please, _she thought, tilting her face up to the ceiling. _Please, let it be from her._

The man in charge of the rookery had passed the letter off to one of the lower ranking servants. When Liang Chi had arrived at her door bearing the message, Tazia had resisted the urge to snatch it away from the girl and command her to leave.

Instead, she'd taken it gingerly and spent almost five minutes chatting with the young serving girl before closing the door.

But Liang Chi had left, and now Tazia had an opportunity to examine the scroll in detail. The parchment was familiar, flowing like silk under her fingertips. High grade Earth Kingdom parchment. If the man running the rookery had been more familiar with different kinds of paper, he might've sensed something amiss when the scroll had passed his hands.

_It could only be her, _Tazia thought, flipping the scroll over to inspect the seal on the other side. The edge of the paper had been secured to the rest with a glob of red wax, a variety commonly available in the Earth Kingdom, where the parchment had come from. Again, the handmaid wondered how this had passed through security so easily.

_Maybe it didn't, _she thought suddenly, dropping the scroll as if it had morphed into a spidersnake. _Maybe they're waiting for me to open it so they can ship me off to prison._

She shuddered. Few citizens knew the horrors of Fire Nation prisons. To them, it was exactly what was depicted in the theatres: clean, orderly facilities like the Boiling Rock.

Tazia had no such delusions. Traitors didn't go to the Boiling Rock. They went to places far worse.

When no one started pounding on her door after a few minutes, she relaxed. _It's just a letter. Nothing for them to be suspicious of. _She inspected the wax seal more carefully, tracing the jagged lines with her fingertips and comparing them to symbols she recognized. But she'd known, from the moment she'd felt the paper under her fingers, who this was from.

The seal was meant to be abstract. To give no hint of the sender's origin. One of the many seals used by the rebels.

Tazia peeled the wax off with her fingernails, then unrolled the scroll to examine the letter inside. The note was brief:

_The Avatar's location is in question. There have been no reported sightings for three days as of this letter. One of our brothers is following a lead near the edge of the Earth Kingdom._

_We require eyes and hands within the Fire Nation. I am tasking you with the retrieval of the Dragon of the West. Disclose to him my identity and last known location._

Tazia set the scroll down, heart fluttering against her ribs at the familiar script. _Thank you, thank you, thank you, _she thought to whatever spirits might be listening. She clutched the scroll close to her chest, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Thank you."

She reread the scroll several times, memorizing the details. Then she walked over to the fireplace and threw the paper into the flames. She stood there until the seal melted in a pool at the bottom of the hearth.

Then she composed herself. The orders would have to wait until after the princess was asleep. She'd already missed enough of her handmaid duties while reading the letter.

She returned to Azula's quarters, knocking to see if the princess wanted anything. Behind the door, the princess murmured a quiet refusal, as she'd done ever since the meeting with her father. In fact, Azula had been strangely undemanding all day.

_It will take her time to recover, _Tazia thought. _The punishment must've been a hard blow to her._

She stood outside the door for the majority of the evening, only moving from that spot when the princess abandoned her room for dinner. Tazia had half-expected her to request the food be brought to her room, but the firebender seemed almost . . . relaxed. As if she'd gotten over it already.

It made Tazia uneasy.

Dinner progressed without trouble, however, and the princess dismissed her early. Tazia bowed deeply, trying not to show her relief. "Thank you for your generosity, Princess."

"Yes, yes," Azula said, giving her a dismissive gesture. "Be on your way now."

Within half an hour of the exchange, Tazia had donned a black cloak similar to the disguise Azula had worn to Mai's funeral, and slipped out her window, into the imperial garden. Rather than harvesting the herbs she usually searched for, she ghosted through the shrubs and slipped beyond the palace gates.

Most people had abandoned their businesses for the day to return to their families. That meant fewer faces to recognize her as a handmaid of the princess. Which was good, because the moment someone recognized her, she'd be forced to abandon her plan.

She was so preoccupied with keeping people from seeing her face that she didn't notice the girl following her from the shadows.

* * *

><p>Liang Chi slipped under the wire gates through the same hole Tazia had used a moment ago.<p>

The Fire Lord had long suspected a mole in his court. He'd hired her in the hopes that her childish face wouldn't draw undue suspicion. She ghosted after the senior handmaid, sometimes trailing her so closely that, with another step or two, she could've stood in the older woman's shadow.

Tazia approached the prison and held up the steel badge granting her freedom to walk the city. After a quick inspection, the guards allowed her past.

Liang Chi waited several minutes, then stepped forward with her own pass and did the same. She slipped inside the prison, moving in total silence.

It was easy to guess where Tazia had gone. The corridors in these prisons were meant to be very linear, keeping prisoners from slipping away to dark corners.

When she caught sight of the older handmaid turning down the end of one hall, she stopped, waiting half a minute for Tazia's footsteps to fade down the corridor. Loud as the older woman was, Liang Chi didn't think she'd notice another pair of footsteps. But this wasn't the time to be reckless. When it was safe to proceed, she turned down the hallway and ascended the stairs at the end. _The Avatar was imprisoned here somewhere, _she thought. _Was it Tazia who set him free? _

After what seemed like half an hour of walking, Liang Chi reached the top of the tower and heard Tazia murmuring.

"Your contact will be three miles south of Obsidian Island," the handmaid whispered. Liang Chi risked a glance around the corner and caught sight of the prisoner she was addressing.

_First the Avatar, now the Dragon of the West, _she thought. _What an interesting little party you've assembled._

Tazia went on. "Once you find her, she will accompany you to find your nephew."

"And who might this mysterious contact be?" Iroh asked, his voice a low rumble. Liang Chi heard the sound of a key twisting in a lock, the music of gears sliding together.

Tazia whispered something to the old man, too low for Liang Chi to hear. Before she could guess who it might be, the cell door creaked open. She retreated automatically, cringing away from the sound.

A moment later, there was a grumble of gratitude from Iroh. "Thank you for this. May the spirits watch over you at the palace."

_Yes. Agni knows you'll need it, _the younger girl thought, slipping into the stairwell as she heard two pairs of approaching footsteps.

When Liang Chi returned to the palace that night, she didn't go to her chambers. Instead, she went straight to the Fire Lord.


	28. A New Pai Sho Partner

_Author's Notes:Sorry it's been so long, but I wrote something besides fan fiction for the first time since I joined this site. I'll try to be better about updating, but until I run out of steam for my original fiction, updates will be sporadic._

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Eight<p>

The sunrise stretched its pale fingers across the horizon.

Zuko sat on the edge of the beach, staring at the sky. Every day, he woke at sunrise. Not because it was required of him—even a banished prince was entitled to sleep in—but because his internal clock commanded him to wake up at this hour every day. _It's the sun, _he thought. _I always rise with the sun._

Beside him, Katara slept. Dark patches ringed her eyes after a long night of caring for Ty Lee. After hours of coaxing, lullabies, and comforting words, the emaciated acrobat had finally fallen into an uneasy slumber. The price was that Katara had spent most of the night tending to her, and wouldn't likely wake up for hours yet.

_That's okay, _Zuko told himself. _It can wait until later._

The waves whispered as they crawled up the shore, but he took little comfort in the sound. Believing Katara had died, even for a few days, had worn heavily on his mind. His stomach bunched up into knots whenever he thought about her getting hurt.

Katara rolled over, curling in tighter on herself. Her dark hair spread out across the sand in rippling waves.

Zuko pulled his Dual Dao swords from the sheath on his back, glad Toph had found them in the prison repository, along with Sokka's Space Sword. He pulled a clean cloth from his pocket and started wiping down the blade, polishing the steel. _I never even got to use this, _he thought to himself. _Not even on the Day of Black Sun._

He sighed, bringing the cloth across the dull side of the blade. The black steel reflected the sunlight like a mirror.

_If Sokka was here, I'd have someone to spar with, _he thought, wishing he'd taken Katara's advice and fetched the water tribe boy before the invasion. _It wouldn't have mattered. He was badly injured. If he's still alive now, he's probably imprisoned, just like the rest of us were. _

Katara stirred beside him, her legs stretching out. A moment later, her eyes opened. She rolled over. "Good morning."

He stared at the black blades, sliding them together so they were one again. "Can I see that map you had?"

Katara blinked in surprise, then fished the map out of her bag. "What are you looking for?"

_I don't know. _"I'm trying to figure out where Sokka would most likely be right now."

Her voice rose with happiness. "We're going to look for him?"

"Well, he _is _our plan guy." He unrolled the map, studying the Prisoner's Chain. _Where would they put a non-bending enemy soldier? _he wondered, eliminating half a dozen possibilities at once. He struggled to recall what he knew of other prisons. _If Sokka's alive, they would've taken him somewhere with decent medical facilities. That eliminates these two . . . Hmm . . ._ _Prisoners of war are usually executed, or held in one of the other prisons, _he thought. _But maybe they wouldn't label Sokka as a threat, given that he can't bend. And the Fire Nation won't try to use someone like him as a bargaining piece, not while they're so far ahead. So he was likely taken to . . . _"The Boiling Rock."

"Sounds dangerous," Katara murmured.

"It is." He rolled up the map. "But it's all we've got."

"We'll go after everyone wakes up," she decided, her face slipping into a mask of determination.

"And after we've told them about us, _right_?"

She fidgeted. "Right. Of course."

He stood up. "I'll get everything packed."

"Zuko," Katara said. He turned to see her hesitating. After a moment, she looked down. "Thanks for this."

_You might not thank me once we get there_, he thought, looking away. "Don't mention it."

* * *

><p>Suki sat down at the Pai Sho table and waited.<p>

It was the same routine as the one between her and Sokka, before he'd escaped, except now she had no idea what she was going to do.

_We have to think of a plan. We have to get out of here._

But they couldn't. The guards had been patrolling the outer ring of the island ever since Sokka's escape, and a new watchtower had been erected that overlooked the Boiling Lake. Even the coolers were monitored now, to prevent any other escape attempts.

_There has to be another way off this island._

Suki looked up as someone sat down in the chair across from her. Automatically, she recognized her Pai Sho partner. After all, he bore a striking resemblance to his son. "Good morning, Hakoda," she said.

The water tribe chieftain nodded his head and started organizing Pai Sho pieces on his side of the game board.

It had taken only one game for Hakoda to understand her purpose, but it had taken two more to convince him she was a friend of Sokka's. And of course, she couldn't _say _such a thing without drawing undue suspicion to herself. Playing Pai Sho with someone who so resembled the prisoner that had escaped was suspicious enough.

But after days of working things out, they were on the same page. "So, what's the plan for today?" she asked, keeping her voice light. At least supervision in the prison yard had lightened up as the guards had spread across the island.

"Don't know," Hakoda said, turning a game piece over in his hand.

She pushed one of the meaningless game pieces across the board, biding her time. Hakoda mirrored her move, as if to say: _what now? _

Suki glared down at the game board, trying to think of some conceivable plan. After a moment, she moved a rock tile to the center of the board. Hakoda placed a water tile a few spaces from that, next to which she placed a fire tile. Soon, they had the Boiling Rock displayed on the board.

She paused for a long moment, trying to think of some avenue of escape. Finally, she set an ice tile near the symbol for the Boiling Lake and shrugged.

Hakoda studied the board for a long moment, then brought one of his tiles so it threatened the ice tile. From the shield carved into the game piece, Suki could guess the meaning of that. She nodded. "Good move," she murmured. _Good point. The guards are watching for that, now._

They played a bit longer, moving their unimportant pieces back and forth across the board so it would look like they were playing instead of planning an escape. After several minutes, Hakoda paused, scrutinizing the wooden surface. His eyebrows came together in a single line, his blue eyes drifting up to something behind her.

He moved a single tile to the edge of the board.

Suki stared at the piece for a long moment, deciphering its significance. She felt the muscles in her face relax as she examined the game board.

And then she smiled.


	29. In the Jaws of an Armadillo Wolf

Chapter Twenty-Nine

After four days of silence, Tazia began to feel as if someone was watching her.

It was an irrational fear, and she knew that. If no one had apprehended her yet, her actions at the prison had likely gone unnoticed. Even so, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, knew she was a traitor.

"Princess Azula," she called, standing outside the princess's door. "Your afternoon tea is ready."

"Come in," the firebender ordered. Tazia shifted the tray so it balanced on one hand and reached for the handle, pulling the door open. Azula sat on the edge of her bed, reading through a scroll with avid attention. As Tazia set the tray on Azula's dresser, she saw that it was an imperial edict. She paused, skimming over the first few lines to get the gist of it.

_A formal revocation of Azula's claim to the throne, _she realized, eyes flitting away from the scroll. She turned and started for the door again.

"Tazia," Azula said.

She turned. "Yes, Princess?"

"You knew my mother, didn't you? Before she was banished."

Tazia tried not to show her shock. "Why, yes, Princess. I was her personal servant."

Azula nodded absently, setting the scroll aside. It was silent for a moment.

"Is there a reason you asked?"

Azula crossed her legs. "I was wondering what happened the night she was banished."

Tazia blinked. "She was caught committing treasonous acts against Fire Lord Azulon. The royal guards took her into custody, after which your father banished her for treason."

"Banished to where?"

Tazia stiffened. "I . . . I'm afraid I don't know."

The Fire Nation princess looked at her with wide, unreadable eyes. After a moment, Azula stood and paced the length of her room. "Why was she banished? Why not have her executed, like a normal prisoner?"

The handmaid relaxed. This, at least, she could answer. "Your father loved Ursa dearly, despite her actions. I imagine he chose to spare her out of sympathy."

"Sympathy," Azula repeated, her voice flat, empty. She turned and walked across her room again. "You think my father spared her out of _sympathy_?"

"It was only a guess, Princess. My apologies if I have offended you."

Azula was quiet for a moment. She returned to the edge of her bed, picking up the cup of tea on her dresser. Like her voice, her face was carefully blank. "Those are the only questions I had. You're dismissed."

Tazia bowed, then slipped out of the room, moving with the silence of an assassin. The thought made a shudder run down her back. _No, not an assassin. Never that. _

She hurried down the hall, almost bumping into young Liang Chi on her way to the servants' quarters. The girl glanced up at her, pigtails bobbing. "Ah, Madam Tazia."

She glanced down. "Yes?"

"The Fire Lord wishes to see you at once."

It was strange, how those words sent a quiver of fear down her back. How the hairs on her neck rose as if drenched in ice water. How the blood seeped out of her face.

Like a rabbit caught in the jaws of an armadillo wolf.

"Madam Tazia?"

The sound of her name brought her back to reality. She exhaled loudly, not realizing she'd been holding her breath. "Did he say what for?"

The girl shook her head. "No. He just said he needed to see you." In a whisper, she added, "I think he wants to ask about the princess."

"Oh." Her heart fluttered with relief. _That must be it. I have more contact with Azula than anyone else in the palace. Of course that's it. _"I'll go at once." She pushed past the young girl, wiping the sweat off her palms. As she walked, she focused on dispelling the signs of anxiety so prominent in her labored breathing, her pale face. _If they were going to arrest me, they would've done it days ago. _She exhaled, slowly. _The Fire Lord probably just wants to hear how his daughter is handling the news, to make sure she doesn't torch any more handmaids. _Tazia repressed a hysterical giggle at the thought.

By the time she reached the throne room, she was in better shape. Her walk was purposeful and quick, but not rushed. Her skin had regained a healthy pallor, despite being slightly flushed from her half-formed panic attack. Even her breathing and heart rate had settled to normal levels.

The Fire Lord sat on his throne, looking down from his platform as she entered. She bowed, going to her hands and knees in a gesture of total submission. "I was told you summoned me, my lord." She peeked up through her bangs.

"You are my daughter's senior handmaid?"

"Yes, my lord."

He nodded. "Come forth."

She approached the platform until she felt the heat of the flames on her face. The Fire Lord beckoned her closer yet, until sweat started dripping from her forehead.

"Your name was Tazia, yes?" the Fire Lord asked.

Her lungs convulsed as if they were about to implode. "Yes, my lord."

"Ah, good. I have the right servant, then." He looked to the corner of the room. "Guards, arrest her."

* * *

><p>Azula rolled up the scroll, the words blurring together after her fourth time reading it. She rubbed her eyes. <em>I need something new to read, <em>she thought, setting the scroll next to the empty cup of tea at her bedside. "Tazia," she called, hoping the handmaid would be stationed outside her door, as she usually was. Given that she'd dismissed the woman for the day, she couldn't act on her irritation when no one answered back. "I guess I'm going to the library myself," she muttered.

She abandoned her room, walking purposefully so no one would bother her with inane conversation. Luck was with her—she didn't catch sight or sound of anyone until she heard voices coming from down the hall. Azula was about to continue on—the library was still another minute's walk from here—but she paused when she realized it was her father speaking.

Azula was not a cautious person. She'd never needed to be, since her firebending skill and battle experience were sufficient to keep her out of danger. So rather than shying away from the voices, she turned down the corridor and walked to the throne room, hoping her father was in as much trouble with the noble families as Tazia had implied. _It would serve him right, _Azula thought.

Footsteps echoed from the throne room, a dozen pairs all moving in disarray. The frequency of the footfalls was too rushed to be that of a noble family. Azula clung close to the wall, listening more intently as she edged toward the door.

"Let me go!" someone screeched. Recognition flashed through Azula, harsh enough to make her flinch.

"I'm afraid we cannot allow traitors to walk the palace unpunished," her father said. Azula peered in through the door, knowing she wouldn't be visible from the throne.

The royal guards had swarmed around one flailing figure, grabbing her by the arms in an attempt to restrain her. Many of the guards were new, sworn into service after the food poisoning incident. Azula recognized none of them.

A tall shadow moved against the wall, thrown into relief by the flames. Azula stiffened, recognizing the broad shoulders of her father. "Such a pity. You were one of Ursa's favorite servants."

Azula flinched. Father never mentioned her mother in front of others.

"I suppose that's what spurred you to become a traitor like her."

"I am no traitor!" Tazia cried, struggling against the shackles being wrapped around her ankles.

"Yet who else but a traitor would free the Dragon of the West from captivity, so soon after he was apprehended?"

"I did nothing of the sort!"

_Uncle is free? _Azula thought, wondering why no one had bothered to tell her.

"I have many eyes in the Fire Nation," Fire Lord Ozai said, his shadow moving back toward the throne. Pacing. In the flickering light, the shadow was much larger than the man himself. "Enough eyes to ferret out traitors within the castle."

Tazia's protests were muffled by the metallic scrape of armor. Azula stared at the developing scene, fixated.

Through the shuffling feet and moving guards, Ozai gave an order. Azula watched as half the guards stepped aside, leaving only two pinning Tazia down. They brought the brown-haired woman to her knees, applying pressure to her elbows so she wouldn't be able to move without breaking them. Another guard stepped in front of Tazia, brandishing a shiny, silver halberd.

The line of fire dividing the throne from the rest of the room flared.

The guard swung his halberd in a wide arc, putting all his strength behind it.

Something round fell from Tazia's shoulders. It tumbled across the floor, bouncing twice, then rolling toward the door. Drops of red marred the metal wherever the round thing hit. A lake of crimson spread out beneath Tazia's knees.

It wasn't until she saw Tazia's sightless brown eyes staring up at her that Azula realized they'd chopped off her head.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Again, I apologize for the slow updates. I haven't been feeling very inspired lately, and given that I'm in the middle of six stories right now, updates are a little delayed._

_I'd planned to put this scene later in the story, but it fit just as well here, and I needed something to get the plot moving forward again. Hopefully, this will spur me to write another chapter soon. In any case, thanks for reading._


	30. Explanations

Chapter Thirty

It had been three days since he'd arrived at the Eastern Air Temple, and most of Aang's meals had consisted of onion and banana juice.

After months in a Fire Nation prison, he was grateful he got to eat at all. Yet another part of him shied away from the unpalatable mixture from the days before the Crystal Catacombs. _The days before everything went wrong. _

He leaned against Appa's side, resting his head on the bison's fur. Appa gave a grumble of contentment. Momo flew to his side and burrowed into the clothes Guru Pathik had given him. The soft wool was cut and dyed just like the monk's clothes he'd been wearing the day he broke out of the iceberg. _The day I met Katara, _he thought, hoping once again that she was all right, that she'd escaped the catacombs, that she'd caught up with Toph and Sokka and fled Ba Sing Se.

But he couldn't be sure.

He'd shaved his head at last, ridding himself of the malnourished curls that had grown around his scalp during his imprisonment. The only reminder of his suffering were the burn scars on his back, from Azula's fire in the catacombs, and those were covered by his new clothes.

Things weren't the same as they'd been a few months ago. But they weren't much worse, either.

Appa shifted beside him, grumbling. Aang sat up, surprised by the sudden movement. Appa seldom tossed in his sleep.

When he looked over, the bison's brown eyes were wide open, ears lifted to pick up nearby sounds. Reacting to Appa's sudden alertness, Aang shot to his feet and pointed his glider out to sea, knowing any approaching threats would have to cut across the water before reaching him. After several seconds of silence, he lowered his staff, approaching the front of the temple. As he passed by the cylindrical supports, he saw how the moonlight played off the shifting waters, making them shimmer like a thousand lanterns burning beneath the water.

His gaze froze on a small vessel, steaming across the open water below the temple. Without airbending, it would take an intruder hours to scale the sheer cliffs surrounding the Eastern Air Temple. By the time anyone reached the top, both he and Guru Pathik could be long gone.

But some intuitive knowledge pulled him closer to the edge, so he could get a clearer look at the vessel. It was a wooden craft, more likely to be found in the Earth Kingdom fleet than the Fire Nation navy. It was also smaller than most of the warships he'd seen since learning of the war.

Night had settled hours ago. The small circle of fire Aang had been using to keep warm had probably already given his location away. So long as he was careful, there was little risk in flying down for a closer look. He flicked the switches on his new glider, letting the golden wings unfold, and swooped down, past the outcropping of rocks that concealed most of the temple. He kept close to the ground, ready to change directions at the slightest indication of an attack.

The crisp air glided across his body, raising bumps on his skin.

He followed the rocks all the way to the water, then flew over the waves, close enough to skim the surface with his fingertips. Mist rose up to cleanse his body. The boat continued along its steady path toward the temple.

As Aang drew closer, he caught sight of two figures, silhouetted by the moonlight. One was short, close to his size, with tousled hair that caught the light. The other was over a head taller, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, arms lined with wiry muscle. It was the familiarity in the taller figure that drew his attention. Aang flew closer, chin sailing inches above the water as he circled around the backside of the boat, where he was less likely to be seen.

The shorter figure turned to the taller figure. "You really think he's here?"

"It's where Appa would go."

The voice jarred him out of stealth mode. His glider collapsed, causing him to slice into the ocean at a speed that sent saltwater up his nose. He resurfaced a moment later, absently bending the water from his nostrils before opening his mouth. "Sokka!"

Both figures started, and the taller one turned back to look at him. "Aang?" Sokka called, incredulous.

Aang shot out of the sea, shedding a cloak of water before landing softly on the edge of the boat. The shorter figure—still unfamiliar despite their proximity—stared at the movement as if he couldn't believe what he'd witnessed.

Sokka caught him in a tight hug, crushing his lungs. Aang allowed himself to be held for several seconds before sliding out of Sokka's arms. "I can't believe you're alive," he said.

Sokka's eyes opened wide. "You can't believe _I'm _alive? Aang, we thought you were _dead_! Zou's been trying to convince me ever since we started toward the air temple that you'd only been imprisoned, but . . ." For a moment, Sokka struggled with words. "I have so much to tell you."

Aang blinked, caught on the first half of Sokka's breathless explanations. "Who's Zou?"

The boy he didn't recognize bowed. "I am Zou, bastard son of a firebender and traitor to the crown."

Aang stood there for a moment, processing that. "Okay . . . What does that mean?"

Sokka answered. "It means he's on our side, and that he's going to teach you firebending."

"Oh . . ." The boat listed sluggishly to the side, and his stomach went with it. Images of blue and orange flames danced in front of his eyes, accompanied by the sinister crackle of lightning. A lump rose in his throat. "About that . . . I kind of figured we should wait on that."

"Wait?" Zou echoed.

"See, the thing is . . . I mean, our side pretty much lost the war when Ba Sing Se was taken, and I haven't had much time to practice my bending since I was taken prisoner in the Crystal Catacombs. So I was thinking there's not much point in rushing through all the elements when we've already lost."

Sokka lifted a hand to his chin, speculating. "I guess that makes sense."

Zou stared at him, mouth falling open slightly. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"About Sozin's Comet. It's only a few weeks away! How could you not know?"

"Oh, I know about the comet. But what use do they have for it now? I mean, I'm assuming the Earth Kingdom is still under Fire Nation control."

The firebender swayed slightly, moving with the lull of the boat. His skin was ghostly pale, like some of the apparitions Aang had seen in the Spirit World. His callused hand found the railing around the boat as he struggled to balance himself. "Lady Tazia wrote about it in one of her letters," he murmured, seeming unaware of their presence. "I thought . . . I thought she would've told you."

"Lady . . . _Tazia_?" he repeated. The name was familiar—a name he recognized instinctively, but couldn't put a face to. A name he'd heard only a handful of times . . .

"She was the one who set you free from the Fire Nation," Zou said.

Aang flinched, mind flashing back to his prison cell, to the winding stone staircase, to the gold-winged glider in his hands.

"It must've been later then, when she listened in on the Fire Lord's war meeting. You must've already been gone."

"Wait a second—what's going on? I don't know what you're talking about."

Sokka spoke to the firebender. "How come you never mentioned this to me?"

Zou sat down, leaning against the railing with a hand pressed against his forehead. "I assumed you were still planning on facing the Fire Lord before the comet. I didn't realize it would be an issue." He straightened his back a little, his black eyes reflecting the blanket of stars. "The Fire Lord isn't going to stop at conquering the other nations. He's going to do just what Sozin did, the last time the comet came around. He's going to use its power to wipe out the Earth Kingdom."

Aang flinched. "He can't do that!"

"He can and he will." Zou stood, some unidentifiable emotion sweeping across his face. "Why do you think Sozin wiped out the Air Nomads?"

Anger flared through his body at the reminder. Zou went on.

"If an entire race of benders were to be wiped out, what do you suppose that would do to the Avatar Cycle? A break in the chain . . . It's been theorized for centuries that there are ways to end the Avatar Cycle—killing you while you're in the Avatar State, for one. But what if the race your spirit was supposed to be reincarnated into was gone? Would the cycle skip over them, as if they'd never existed, or would it break? Or what if all benders perished except firebenders?" Zou walked across the deck, staring into the sea. "When air, water, and earth have all disappeared, who will be left to teach an Avatar if the cycle continues? No one. The Avatar will grow up an ordinary firebender, except perhaps with some untrained talent for manipulating other elements."

Zou turned back to him, his expression grim. "That is why it is so important for you to vanquish the Fire Lord now, before he can do any more damage. He may not be able to eradicate all earthbenders during the comet, but any subsequent assaults from the Earth Kingdom would be weak. Ineffective. The same goes for the water tribes, both of which rely on the vast polar seas and Earth Kingdom barricades to keep them safe from harm. If there is no Earth Kingdom to distract the Fire Nation, the water tribes will be wiped out within months."

"I don't believe that," Aang said. "The water tribes are stronger than that. There's a reason they've survived this—"

"Aang," Sokka said. His voice was soft, hesitant. Grim. Aang stared at him, fingers going numb around his glider.

"You know that's not true! The water tribes—"

"Aang." His voice was even softer. Not hesitant anymore, but dismal. His pale blue eyes reflected the waning moon. "I hate to say this—I really, _really_ hate to say this—but Zou's right."

Aang shook his head, tears burning in his eyes. Losing Ba Sing Se had been a hard blow. Losing the water tribes—Master Pakku, Sokka's grandmother, the children in the South Pole, the people he'd met in the North Pole, _Katara _. . . It was too much.

He slumped down to his knees, clutching his scalp. "This can't be happening. I don't have _time _to master the elements now—I've been in prison for months. I don't even think I could've done it in a year!"

"No, you can't," Zou said. "Where you're at now, your chances of mastering all four elements are almost zero. But if you can learn _enough_, you can still end this war before we burn."

_Before we burn . . . I've heard that before._ "Tazia said that, too. 'Before we burn.' What does that _mean_?"

"Within the Fire Nation, there exists a group of rebels. 'Before we burn' is a phrase we use to communicate to each other without tipping off normal citizens. It's also . . ." He looked away. "The words are also symbolic of the fire that's been burning away in the Fire Nation since the beginning of this war. The hatred for the other nations, even for our own _countrymen_, has spread so deep, it's like an inferno raging unseen in our territory. Soldiers kill each other for honor, or power, or just a lust to kill. The rebels are not traitors in truth, merely advocates for peace. Those of us who can overcome the notion that this war is just, that the Fire Nation is the best nation in the world . . . We fight for peace between the nations. But to have peace, we need the Avatar. And one other thing."

"Yes?" Aang asked, leaning forward.

"We need to kill the royal family."


	31. Wilted Flower

Chapter Thirty-One

"Zuko and I are together."

Toph stared blankly into the distance, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "_That _was what you were so worked up about?"

Katara's shoulders sagged, half with relief, half with shock at the earthbender's quick acceptance. "I thought you'd be mad that I didn't tell anyone."

Toph sighed. "Honestly, Sugar Queen, you don't know the first thing about me. I don't need _eyes_ to see. I figured it out a long time ago."

Blood rushed to her cheeks, staining them scarlet. "You . . . _When_?"

"The boat."

It took Katara a moment to figure out what Toph meant by that. In the limited time she'd had to guess, she'd imagined Toph's answer would be on one of the islands. And she hadn't been on too many boats since she'd first kissed Zuko. Except the one . . .

The stain on her cheeks darkened. _She can't mean the boat we took on our way into the capital, _she thought, mind flashing back to that night with Zuko, to the way his touches had burned into her nerves like painless jolts of electricity. _But that's the only boat we were on long enough for Toph to realize . . . Oh, spirits. _

"Believe me," Toph said, holding up a hand. "As soon as I figured out what you two were up to, I curled up in a little ball and tuned you out. I've had more than enough experience seeing _that _than I ever wanted."

Katara blinked once, processing that, then burst into laughter.

"What?" Toph demanded.

Doubled over, the waterbender said, "It was . . . It was just the way you _said _that—" She broke off, stifling another laugh. "You have no idea . . ." _Of course she thinks it's gross. She's twelve. _Katara sputtered out another laugh, collapsing against a palm tree.

"That sounds nice," Ty Lee murmured. Katara opened her eyes, surprised to hear the acrobat speak. The girl's grey eyes were focused on the waves lick the sand, but her gaze was a thousand miles away.

"I . . . I guess so," Katara said, unsure how to handle the topic given what Ty Lee had endured. If anything, she'd expected the acrobat to overreact—throw a fit or go into a panic attack.

But she'd promised Zuko she'd tell them the truth.

"It sounds nice," Ty Lee repeated, her voice barely carrying over the whispering waves. "To love someone and be loved back."

Guilt twisted in her stomach like a dagger. She wrapped her arms around her knees, saying nothing.

"So . . ." Toph said, stretching the syllable out. "Are you two getting married or something?"

Katara hesitated. "Well . . . Nothing's set in stone, I guess, but Zuko and I talked about it. He asked me to be his Fire Lady, if we ever win this war."

"And if we don't?"

_We'll probably die. _"I don't know."

Toph plopped down on the beach, letting streams of sand run through her fingers before crushing the granules into a solid chunk. Suddenly she smiled.

"I'm back," Zuko called, carrying an armful of peppers and other vegetables.

"Lover Boy's back, everyone!"

"_Toph_," Katara squealed.

Zuko paused for a moment, his face going blank. A faint flush crept across his unscarred cheek. "I thought we should have one good meal before we go looking for Sokka," he said, avoiding the topic entirely.

"I'll go catch some fish," Katara said, hurrying to the shoreline. "You go ahead and start the fire, okay?"

If he gave a reply, she didn't hear it. In less than a minute, she was ankle-deep in seawater, pulling fish from the ocean. The flowing movements of her bending slowed her heart rate, chasing the anxiety out of her stomach. Telling the others had worn her down much more than she'd expected. _At least it's done with, _she thought. _Now I won't have to worry about it until we find Sokka. _Her lungs seized up at the thought, but she forced herself to take a deep breath and focus on her bending.

A few minutes later, she returned to find a campfire lit and thriving. She speared the fish on several sharpened sticks and moved them over the fire. Zuko busied himself chopping up the vegetables and tossing them into a pot. She joined him, starting with the ocean kumquats.

"Thanks," he murmured, slicing down the center of a red pepper.

"Don't worry about it. I like cooking."

"I meant thanks for telling them."

She grimaced. "Well, Toph sort of figured it out on her own."

"Really?"

Katara nodded, moving on to the second ocean kumquat. "What do you expect, when she can feel everything that's going on around her?" Her cheeks warmed, her voice rising in pitch as she went on. "I mean, think of all the things she _feels _with her seismic sense. It's got to take so much self-control on her part to keep from focusing on stuff like that—"

Zuko bent down, lips pressing against her cheek. She turned, eyes flashing to the campfire, where the others were sitting. "Zuko!" she squeaked.

"Sorry," he murmured. "But I wanted to see what it was like. To kiss you without having to worry about being seen."

Guilt stabbed at her anew. "I didn't realize how much it bothered you."

He shrugged. "I'm a prince. My life was very public, once. I'm not used to keeping things from people."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." She glanced over to see him focusing on chopping up peppers. As he set his knife aside to pick out the next pepper, she pecked him on the cheek, where his scar met smooth skin. His mouth fell open half an inch, eyes widening. He lifted his hand to his scar, the back of his neck going red. Then he looked away.

When Katara peeked over to see his face, she saw that he was smiling.

* * *

><p>Azula stared at her handmaid's head, a coil of disgust forming in her abdomen. A spot of blood marred her black shoes.<p>

One of the guards approached, presumably to collect the head and transport it wherever Tazia's body was supposed to go. He froze when he saw her standing here. "Princess Azula. It's an honor to—"

She lifted a hand to stop him. "I was just passing by. Go about your business."

"O-of course, Princess." He grabbed Tazia's head by the hair, dripping more blood onto the floor. Azula turned, squaring her shoulders, and started down the hallway.

No one stopped her.

She didn't go to the library, as she'd planned. After poring over the revocation of her status as heir, she was sick of reading.

Not sick because of anything else. Certainly not sick from what she'd just witnessed.

She strode through the hallways, past the double doors. Two guards—lower ranked than those who'd slain her handmaid, but higher ranked than most soldiers—greeted her as she entered the imperial garden. "Princess."

"If my father asks, I've gone for a walk. Tell him I'm staying on the island."

"Yes, Princess," they said in unison.

She walked on, past rows of carefully sculpted bushes and blossoming flowers. Two more guards acknowledged her as she passed through the gates delineating the property boundaries. Azula didn't deign to respond.

Most of the time, her royal litter-bearers would be waiting to take her to any part of the city she desired. But since she hadn't told anyone she was leaving, no one waited for her. With what she had in mind, that was probably for the best.

It wasn't a far walk, anyway.

"Good evening, Princess," said the man at the gate. He bowed deeply, a gray beard spilling over his robes.

"I wish to enter," she said. "Is anyone home?"

"The family is out, but you may enter. I have the key." He fumbled in his pockets for several seconds before finally producing a small, brass key. He unlocked the gate and held it open for her. After she passed, the gates closed. "May I ask why you've come, Princess?"

"To honor a dead comrade," she said simply. It was true enough.

"Yes, Lady Mai's death was truly tragic. I hope you find peace, when you enter."

_I did not come here looking for peace, _she thought, waiting for the man to unlock the front door. "You may wait out here," she said. "Make sure no one else enters until I've given you leave to do so."

"Yes, Princess. Whatever you say."

She stepped inside. Beams of sunshine cut across the empty house, catching on the swells of dust in the air. A faint, musty smell had overtaken the building, despite the orderly surroundings. With Mai's family in charge of recapturing New Ozai(according to the scrolls she'd read, their reign had fallen while she'd been comatose), it was unlikely anyone would return to this house anytime soon.

Azula moved silently through the halls, well-acquainted with stealth. Even as a child, she'd been quiet and surefooted enough to eavesdrop on any conversation, including those she hadn't been welcome in, like the one between Fire Lord Azulon and her father the night before Azulon's death.

The house was familiar to her, if only vaguely. Most of the time, Mai had preferred to join her in the imperial garden, rather than invite her over. Azula moved through the living room, the kitchen, the dining room, always searching, looking into every shadow. Eventually, she found what she was looking for.

Mai's urn sat on a small table sitting at the top of the stairs. Wilted flowers wreathed the elegant urn. One of Mai's knives sat in front of it, the blade polished to a shine. Sunlight glinted off the steel.

Azula reached for the knife, running her finger along the smooth metal. She picked it up, turning it so it reflected her face. Her lips had settled into a smooth line. Her eyes were calm, tranquil.

Azula hid the knife in the inner pocket of her clothes. Then, she traced the wilted petals of Mai's flowers with her fingertip. Fire lilies. _What a shame they wilt so fast, _she thought, turning away from Mai's ashes.


	32. Kiss of Fire

Chapter Thirty-Two

Daylight escapes were much riskier than nighttime flights, but given their limited time in the yard, Suki couldn't think of a better chance.

She tilted her head up to look at the catwalk. Guards walked their circuits as they overlooked the prison yard. Hakoda clung to the shadows, unnoticed, waiting for her to move.

She looked down, walking several paces before picking up a sharp pebble. With a practiced movement, she flung the projectile at one of the more volatile prisoners—a bald man with a jagged scar running from his temple to the back of his head. "Hey! Who threw that?"

Suki pointed at one of the other prisoners. "It was him! I saw it all."

The scarred man swaggered toward the other inmate, who cringed back. "No, no! I've done nothing," the other man cried.

"How about you come over this way, you little shit?" the bald man growled. Suki backed away, eyes flitting once again to Hakoda. Other inmates gathered in a circle around the pair, making it easy to slip away from the action. Already, she could see the guards massing.

Being a Kyoshi warrior had taught her many things—discipline, endurance, honor. But today, it was her agility she relied on the most. She leapt onto another prisoner's back, springing up to the railing of the second level. The muscles in her arms contracted, pulling her over the rail. She balanced there a moment, then ran across the walkway, heart pounding. One level above, Hakoda hurried toward the gondola.

Two guards intercepted her as she darted down the catwalk. The first she kicked in the face. The second snatched her arm, crippling her landing. Waves of pain radiated up her leg when her knee struck the ground.

"Where are _you_ going?" the guard demanded, as his friend recovered from the kick. Suki twisted around, manipulating the guard's arm and applying pressure to the joint. The man collapsed to one knee, screaming as the bones in his wrist snapped.

Suki slipped free, sprinting now. She reached the edge, where the walkway turned to look over the prison from a different angle. Another guard met her here, bearing a club. She sprang up, her foot coming down on his shoulder. "Sorry," she called to the guard she'd stepped on.

Suki flipped once, hand snaking out to grab the railing of the third level. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins, painting the prison black and white to her eyes. Time slowed despite the increased tempo of her footsteps. The gondola came into sight just as Hakoda reached the lever to activate it.

Their eyes met. She saw his gaze tilt up half a degree, saw his left hand move as if reaching for her.

Suki turned and smashed a foot into the face of the guard behind her, glad the chief's gesture had given her enough warning time to fight back. _A warrior must always be aware of her surroundings, _she thought as she reached the platform. The gondola doors swung open. Hakoda pulled the lever, and the cable car began to move. "Go!" she yelled. "I'll make sure no one can stop us."

Something like surprise flashed across the older man's face. Suki turned toward the lever, kicking it hard with her heel. It bent slightly. She kicked it twice more, until the metal looked too twisted to be turned again. By the time she turned back to the cable car, it was already twenty feet away. Hakoda leaned out of the doorway, hand extended as if to help her. Suddenly, he pointed.

_More guards, _she realized at once. She turned just as three of them reached the platform. From the stances they took, she guessed two of them were firebenders. The third charged at her, axe in hand.

_Focus. Take out the easy targets first, then come down on the more advanced enemies. _She sidestepped the axe as the man brought it down. Her foot landed in the small of his back, knocking him forward like a man kicked from behind by an ostrich horse.

Suki turned to the two firebenders. Their fists shot forward, brilliant streams of orange exploding out from their knuckles. She danced out of the way of both blasts, keeping low to the ground. _Fight__, _she told herself. _You've trained every part of your body for this. Use it._

Flames caressed her hair, biting her scalp. She spun once more, closing the distance between herself and one of the firebenders. As he saw her approach, he shifted tactics, shooting a fireball at her face. This forced her to abort her attack. She swung wide, almost losing her balance.

"There she is!" someone called. "She's the one who tied me up."

_Looks like my last escape attempt is about to bite me in the ass. _She slammed the bottom of her foot into the side of the man's knee. He crumpled where he stood.

Hakoda was almost a third of the way to the other side. _There will be other guards waiting for us, _Suki thought. _I have to go now or we'll both get killed. _She flung a final kick toward the other firebender, hoping the guards who'd just arrived couldn't firebend. She ran for the cable, leaping off the platform. Her hands wrapped around the sturdy cord, pulling her up so she could run along the top.

That was when she felt the kiss of the flames on the back of her legs.

* * *

><p>"I thought we were going to look for Sokka at the Boiling Rock," Toph said, picking at her toes.<p>

"We're making a detour," Zuko said. "There's a military base near here, and since the inner part of the Boiling Rock is only accessible by air or by gondola, we need something to carry us there."

Katara pushed their ice raft toward the island, keeping her mind clear despite the knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. They reached the rocky beach in minutes.

"Follow me," Zuko said, stepping off the raft. Katara melted the raft and covered herself in a liquid cloak.

Security was surprisingly lax for a military base. When she asked about it, Zuko said, "The people who work here are probably busy running drills for the comet. Fire Nation troops always do stuff like that right before a big battle. There should only be a small force guarding the supplies." He pushed the door handle down, intent on moving through. The door didn't give. "It's locked."

Toph cracked her knuckles. "Step aside, Sparky, and let me show you how an earthbender does it." She stepped up to the door and slammed her hands into the metal. The door crumpled, ripping free of its hinges and flying into the hallway. Katara winced at the noise.

They hurried down the corridor, running in case their entrance had attracted the attention of any guards. Four soldiers intercepted them at the end of the corridor. Zuko sent a wall of fire toward them, not even pausing.

The guards turned to flee. Katara froze them to a wall with her limited supply of water, making sure to cover their mouths.

From there, it was pretty simple. Zuko located one of the main storerooms. There, they found dozens of Fire Nation war balloons, like the one the mechanist at the Northern Air Temple had designed. "Help me move this," Zuko instructed. Ty Lee and Toph stepped up to help him push the basket. Katara covered the floor with a thin film of water, then froze it, so the others wouldn't have to contend so much with friction.

They slipped out of the base with little fanfare. As soon as they reached the beach, Zuko ordered them all aboard and started heating the air inside the balloon.

"Where did you learn to fly this thing?" Katara asked, looking over the edge at the waves below.

"It's required knowledge for a prince. I learned it before I was banished. An earlier version of this, anyway." He scrutinized the gas tank. "We don't really need this, since I'm here, but it might be useful if we ever get split up and one of you has to infiltrate Fire Nation territory. Just turn the knob and create a spark."

Katara nodded absently, paying more attention to the intensity in his face. It was such a drastic change from the smile she'd witnessed this morning. _This prison must be dangerous, for him to be so grim. Then again, it seems like most Fire Nation prisons are . . . _Her eyes flickered to Ty Lee.

They flew for over an hour, the sun beating down on their aircraft. Katara passed the time by pulling water from her water skin and bending it in circles.

"We're almost there," Zuko said after a time. "I can see the island."

Katara stood, clinging to the edge of the basket so as not to topple over it. She saw the jagged ring of stone around the central island, saw the dismal gray buildings rising from the barren rocks. Steam covered the lake around the island, concealing the water, but the constant bubbling made it clear why this was called the _Boiling _Rock. "Fly in closer," she said. "We're in a Fire Nation war balloon. They won't suspect anything."

"Not yet," Zuko said as they passed over the outer ring of the island. Katara peered over the side of the basket, looking down at the ant-sized guards patrolling it. _What are they doing out _there_? _she wondered. _Shouldn't they be guarding the prison itself? _

A flash of orange caught her eye. She turned, bringing her bending water to her hands. The balloon started descending, the air warming as they drew closer to the simmering water.

Someone stood, balancing precariously on the thick rope running between the two stretches of land. Two people dressed in red armor shot fireballs at the graceful figure, narrowly missing her several times before striking her legs. Katara reacted instinctively, reaching for the mass of water below. She pulled, as hard as she could, not sure if she'd be able to control the hot water from this distance. She breathed as sigh of relief as a wall of liquid shot up from the surface, blocking the stream of fire.

The girl running across the rope staggered, going down on all fours to cling to the lifeline.

"Zuko, pull the balloon in closer!" Katara yelled.

This time, Zuko obeyed. She felt the sharp jerk as he directed the balloon in a new course. As they drew nearer, the girl's figures grew clearer. "Suki!"

Suki looked up, shock warring with relief on her face.

"All this hot air is messing with our balloon," Zuko said. "We have to go up."

"We can't. That's _Suki_. She's one of us."

"Katara—"

Her fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him close. Her lips smashed into his, fast and demanding. "Please, Zuko."

Below, Suki reached the cable car and ducked inside the open door, leaning out a moment later to look up at them. Katara reached over the edge. "Suki, grab my hand!"

The Kyoshi warrior glanced back into the cable car, hesitating. Just as they were about to pass the gondola, Suki grabbed her hand and pulled herself into the basket. Without a word, the Kyoshi warrior reached back toward the cable car. A dark hand shot out, swallowing hers entirely. Katara followed the line of the arm, lungs convulsing when she recognized the owner. Her lips stretched into a smile.

"Dad!"


	33. Unwanted Revelations

Chapter Thirty-Three

"Hold on a second," Sokka said, holding up a hand. "You mean the Fire Lord and the princess, right?"

Zou's coal-black eyes flitted up to Sokka's face. "I mean the royal family. The Fire Lord, the princess, the banished prince, the cousins—"

"You can't _do _that!" Aang exploded, finally recovered enough to speak. "Maybe it makes sense for you, but I can't just _kill _the Fire Lord. I can't kill anyone—I'm twelve!"

Zou's gaze never wavered.

Aang went on. "And yes, maybe they deserve it. Maybe their deaths would make the world a better place. But no one can decide when someone else should move on to the Spirit World."

A silence stretched between them, as turbulent as the choppy waters under their boat. "Avatar Aang," Zou finally said. "You are familiar with what they do to prisoners such as yourself."

Aang flinched, drawing his robes tighter around his body. For the first time, Sokka made note of the scar peeking out from his robes. "What _happened_ to you?"

"You cannot pretend such a thing could've been done by a sane, redeemable person," Zou said. "That scarring is the work of a monster, a tool they used to torment you. Does it not follow that they should be punished for what they've done?"

"I didn't say they shouldn't be," Aang said. "But Monk Gyatso told me no one has the right to take someone else's life."

"Even when not doing so results in your own death?" Zou asked, eyebrows flexing.

"Not even then."

The firebender's face softened, turning back to the waves. Mist rose from the side of the boat, spraying into his face and dampening his dark hair. It seemed to calm him. "Avatar Aang, do you recall the first time you visited the Southern Air Temple after you woke up to this war?"

Aang flinched. Images of Monk Gyatso's bones, still framed in his monk's garb, flickered through his mind. "What are you getting at?"

The firebender's voice was soft, reserved. "All around Monk Gyatso, what did you see?"

"What did I . . ." He trailed off, eyebrows pinching together as he expanded his circle of memory beyond his old mentor's body. There had been something shocking there, he remembered, but as he tried to look back, he encountered a block in his memories. As if he was too afraid to remember. "I'm not sure."

"Many Fire Nation soldiers died that day, despite the advantages brought on by Sozin's Comet, most of them at the air temples. You don't honestly believe they all suddenly collapsed and died of illness when their assault was done, do you?"

Sokka interjected, placing two hands on Aang's shoulders. "Okay, that's enough. He doesn't want to kill the Fire Lord. Fine. I can do it, or one of the others."

Aang stared at the deck of the ship, barely hearing the words. Zou was right. Those Fire Nation soldiers hadn't simply dropped where they'd stood. Of course not. But the thought that Monk Gyatso—_Monk Gyatso, _who had nurtured him from birth, who had raised him and trained him until he was one of the youngest airbending masters ever to be born—could've slain all those men . . . It was unfathomable. It was _wrong_.

But it was the only thing that made sense.

Aang slipped out from under Sokka's hands and walked to the edge of the boat, staring out to sea. "We can worry about this later."

"And besides," Sokka said, facing Zou. "We can't kill _Zuko_. He's on our side."

"You didn't mention that," Zou said sharply.

"I didn't?" Sokka asked, sounding surprised.

Aang turned to face them again. "Wait a minute. Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Sorry," Sokka said. "I guess I forgot how much you've missed since you've been . . . gone."

"Well it's not like having one of our strongest enemies switch to our side is a big deal or anything." He crossed his arms in front of him.

Sokka stared at him, arching an eyebrow. After a long moment, he asked, "Are you trying to be sarcastic?"

Aang groaned. "Never mind. Let's just get back to the Eastern Air Temple so someone can explain what's going _on_."

"I'll steer the ship in," Zou said, retreating to the wheelhouse.

Aang turned back out to sea.

"So . . ." Sokka said. "_Were_ you being sarcastic?"

Aang sighed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

><p>"We're sinking," Zuko warned as they pulled Katara's father into the basket.<p>

Toph's voice rose in shock. "What do you mean, we're _sinking_?"

"The air around the balloon is almost as hot as the air outside." He sent another plume of fire into the balloon, as hot as he dared without running the risk of burning the fabric. "We're not going to make it over the lake."

"_What_?" the earthbender half-shrieked.

"Zuko, keep pumping hot air into the balloon," Katara said. "I'll get us over the lake."

He looked at Katara, catching a glimpse of her determined blue eyes before she turned away. As per her orders, he sent more fire into the bottom of the balloon. They kept sinking steadily, unable to gain altitude over the simmering lake. _I hope you know what you're doing, Katara, _he thought, closing his eyes for a long moment, then reopening them. From the banks, the guards shot fireballs in their direction. Katara brought walls of steaming water from the lake, blocking the assaults.

Uncle had once told him that waterbending was primarily a defensive art.

"Not good," he heard someone say. He glanced over to the brown-haired girl Katara had identified as Suki. She was staring at the boiling lake, her eyes wide. She shied away from the edge of the basket.

"Hold on everyone," Katara ordered, taking her stance. "Zuko, stop firebending."

The command seemed suicidal, given how close they were to the hot water. Steam rose all around them in a soupy haze.

"_Zuko_," Katara said when he hesitated.

_You have to trust her, _he told himself, forcing his hands to drop, forcing his fingers to relinquish the fire that had kept them aloft this long. Almost immediately, the balloon started dropping faster. _She knows what she's doing._

At least he hoped so.

Katara's arms moved in a graceful circle, pulling water from the lake and whipping it through the air, cooling it with every second it was away from the boiling lake. The cascade followed her movements like a ribbon pulled through the air.

Zuko clung to the edge of the basket, breathing.

The rush of water slammed into the side of the basket, propelling them forward. Like a stone skipped across a pond, the bottom of their basket hit the lake and bounced, steam rising from the base. Propelled by Katara's waterbending, the basket shot high into the air, crumpling a bit under the force of the movement. Zuko understood why Katara had asked him to hold back his fire; he wouldn't dare try to manipulate a balloon moving so chaotically.

They rose above the outer ring of the Boiling Rock Islands, out of the reach of the guards' firebending.

"We made it!" Suki yelled.

Zuko stood up and started pumping more hot air into the balloon, hoping it would inflate to its full size and stabilize their course. As they rose higher into the cooler air, he relaxed enough to look back at the islands. The guards had all congregated on the rocky ridge, staring at their escaping air balloon.

He sighed, turning to the brown-haired girl named Suki. "Do you know if Sokka was being held here?"

The girl crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Oh yeah. He was. But not anymore."

Zuko's heart quickened. She couldn't mean that Sokka was _dead_, could she? _Of course she could, _the cynical part of him thought. _He _was _brought here from Azula's ship. It would be a miracle if he made it here unscathed._

"Sokka escaped days ago," Suki said, sitting down on the basket's floor. "I'm sure he's fine."

Zuko blinked, feeling as if he'd swallowed something bad for his stomach, but it was Katara who asked the all-important question. "So you don't know where he is?"

Suki shook her head. Zuko returned his attention to keeping the balloon aloft. From the corner of his eye, he saw Katara's face turn out to sea.

"Don't worry," came a deep voice. "Sokka can take care of himself, wherever he is. He's still my son, after all."

Zuko looked at Katara's father, unsettled. He couldn't be sure, but he doubted the water tribe chief would take well to the idea that his daughter was in love with a banished Fire Nation prince.

The flame on his finger tip guttered out for a moment at the thought. Katara's father noticed the change and looked at him sharply. "I wasn't sure what to believe when I heard you'd switched sides," he said. "But that was a brave rescue back there."

Zuko relaxed, then bowed his head. "Thank you." He paused, unsure what to do next. Katara made a helpless gesture. _Looks like I'm on my own for this one. _"I'm Zuko. It's nice to meet you." _There, that sounds good. _

The older man smiled, creases forming at the corners of his eyes. His dark hand came down on Zuko's shoulder, a smile dawning on his face. "I'm Hakoda, Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Zuko forced himself to stay still—he wasn't used to being touched so casually. Yet a part of him was relieved. Katara's father wasn't going to judge him by his past. He wasn't going to throw a fit over having a firebender near his allies. He wasn't going to exile him out of fear.

Zuko just hoped Hakoda was this receptive to his relationship with Katara.


	34. Sweet Dreams

_Author's Notes:_

_I didn't originally plan to write the first scene, but one of my wonderful reviewers pointed out a major plot hole regarding Zou's apparent knowledge of Aang's past and Air Nomad culture. Hopefully this first scene mends the error without seeming too out of place in the story._

* * *

><p>Chapter Thirty-Four<p>

"So how do you know so much about _my _past?" Aang asked Zou, sipping from a bowl of onion-banana juice.

"A lot of it is assumptions," the firebender admitted. "I paid attention in my history class, and even though most of the stuff they taught us was propaganda, I managed to glean some genuine information. I learned bits and pieces about your culture from reprinted paintings, and I cross-referenced those with what I uncovered of my father's things." His expression darkened for just a moment. "And of course, I've been drilling Sokka with questions about your travels ever since we started searching for you."

Aang shifted uneasily, eyes flitting to Sokka. The water tribe warrior shrugged. "It was a long boat ride."

"Yes," Zou said. "And yet somehow you glazed over the fact that the prince of the Fire Nation joined your party."

"You never asked. You never said anything about the royal family except that you were fighting to overthrow the Fire Lord."

Zou rolled his eyes. "I'm only fourteen, give me some credit. At least I managed to piece together what happened a hundred years ago." He glanced down at his bowl of onion-banana juice, nose twitching. "Have you been eating this the whole time you've been here?"

Aang shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

The firebender studied the mashed up foods, then took a sip. His lips twisted into a grimace.

"Anyway, I think that covers everything you've missed," Sokka said to Aang before shoveling another spoonful of the semi-solid mush into his mouth.

Aang leaned into Appa's side, relieved. It had taken the two of them three hours to get him caught up, after he'd relayed the tale of his escape and subsequent journey to the Eastern Air Temple, and Aang still didn't understand half of what had happened. _I can't believe _Zuko _switched sides, _he thought, struggling to reconcile his image of the banished prince with the concept of an ally. _Even if Katara vouched for him, how did he manage _that_? _

"So, we've got to make a plan," Zou said, setting his bowl aside.

"I'm good at making plans," Sokka piped up.

"It's true, he is."

"We need a plan in which you defeat the Fire Lord before the comet arrives. Since that's only a couple weeks away, I'm going to have to teach you as much as I possibly can about firebending while Sokka here thinks of a way into the Fire Nation."

Aang raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Is there any way I can face the Fire Lord without having to learn firebending?"

"No."

"What about a way to fight him without having to kill him?"

"No."

Aang's shoulders slumped. "Yeah . . . I don't think I can do this."

"You have to. The comet's coming soon, and if you don't defeat the Fire Lord before then . . . it'll be the end of everything."

"I'm sorry," he said, lowering his head. "But I can't kill him." _I can't even kill his daughter, after she was lying in a hospital bed._

Zou opened his mouth as if to speak again, then closed it, looking beyond the stone pillars and out to sea. "We can worry about that part later. For now, let's focus on firebending."

"Can we do it tomorrow? I've been awake all night."

"Do you understand how little time we—"

Sokka laid a hand on the firebender's shoulder. The boy glanced at him, seeming startled by the contact. After a moment, his eyes dropped and he relaxed. Sokka said, "We all need a few hours to rest and recuperate. Tomorrow, you two can start training. You can work on it all day if you want."

Zou sighed and laid down on the pale stone. "Tomorrow then. But no breaks after that."

Aang sighed in contentment, lifting his hands and resting them behind his head. He yawned. "Sure. We'll get to it first thing in the morning." He closed his eyes.

The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Zou's disappointed sigh.

* * *

><p>All was quiet in the palace.<p>

Azula slipped out of bed, drawing her hair back behind her ears. She'd been lying still for hours, waiting for the palace to fall silent, waiting for the maids to go to sleep, and for the day guards to hand over their keys to the night guards and go to bed.

All the outside entrances to the palace were under guard, all intruders kept at bay.

Quietly, Azula ran a brush through her hair. Within seconds, the naturally straight locks hung in neat curtains around the sides of her face. She stood, adjusted her robes, and took a moment to survey her surroundings.

Everything was in place.

She plucked Mai's knife from her bedside table. Her fingers weaved through the vines cascading from the edge the flowerpot to get at the hidden treasure. The blade glinted in the faint candlelight.

"So this is it," Mai said, appearing at her side. When Azula turned the knife to reflect the other girl's face, however, all she saw was the undecorated corner of her room.

"This is it," she whispered back. "I will not be disgraced again."

"It means that much to you?"

Azula was silent for a long moment, wondering if Mai would disappear again, like she'd done so many times before. Finally, she said, "It means everything to me."

Mai looked at the knife, a glint of yearning in her black eyes. "If I could, I would do it myself."

"I know." _That's why I'm doing this for you. For both of us. _She lifted her eyes from the blade and tucked it into her pajamas. _For all the people I have lost. _

Mai followed her out the door. The nice thing about being followed by a ghost was that they made no sound. _No one will hear us. No one will even know until tomorrow._

It wasn't a far walk to her father's chambers, though he seldom went there except to sleep. She supposed he was sleeping now, trying to dispel the foul mood he'd acquired since speaking with the noble families this evening. Everyone was still throwing fits over Mai's death, about how the killer had not been punished, but rewarded.

_But Mai would never want me to suffer, _she thought, slowly pressing down on the door handle. It creaked, and for several seconds, all Azula could hear was the pounding of her pulse in her ears.

But eventually, that passed, and the door opened.

Her father slept soundly in the too-large double bed. Gauzy curtains framed the bed, reaching from the headboard and trailing all along the sides of the frame to keep the morning sunshine at bay.

Azula approached the bed from the side, brushing the translucent fabric aside and staring down at her father's sleeping face. Resentment bubbled up in her chest, resentment for every blow he'd dealt her, for every shame he'd laid upon her shoulders, for every person she'd lost because of him—Mai, Ty Lee, Tazia, her _mother_, even Zuko. _Tonight I shall take my payment in blood, _she thought, slipping Mai's knife out of her robes.

From the other side of the bed, Mai nodded.

Azula moved the knife, point down, over Ozai's chest. _Breathe in, breathe out, _she told herself. _Just like in firebending practice._

"Do it," Mai whispered. "Do it for everything he's taken from us."

Azula brought the knife down.

Blood squirted between her fingers, following the line of the blade. Her father's eyes flashed open, a choked sound issuing forth from his throat as he lifted his head to identify the assassin. Azula looked back at him, feeling nothing, thinking nothing. Her lips moved of their own accord, speaking words her mind had no control over. "You said I wouldn't be crowned until the day you died. Such a shame that you're going to miss my coronation."

Ozai's gold eyes flashed brighter, and his arm twitched, fire rising to his fingertips as if he meant to burn her as he'd burned Zuko. She drove the knife deeper, splattering more blood onto her hands and clothes. A spec of blood hit her cheek and slowly slid down to her chin, hanging like a tear before falling back onto the sheets.

The _hiss _of Ozai's breathing ceased after a moment, his arm falling limp to the mattress as a splotch of blood spread across his sheets. His head lolled to the side, mouth hanging open as if in a final command. Azula's fingers unfurled, releasing the knife. She leaned down and whispered in the Fire Lord's ear.

"Sweet dreams, Father."


	35. On a Smuggler's Ship

Chapter Thirty-Five

"—and then I shoved the cooler into the Boiling Lake, changed out of my armor, and ran back to my cell before the guards realized I'd left." Suki grinned, popping another piece of fish into her mouth.

"That's quite a story," Katara said. _If only we knew where Sokka was _now, _it would be even better. _

Across the campfire from her, her father nodded, subdued. He was clearly wishing the same thing. But he must've heard Suki's story already, because instead of asking questions about Sokka's location, he shoveled a mound of rice into his mouth and stared at the fire.

"So we really have no idea where he is, then," Ty Lee murmured. Everyone's eyes flickered in her direction for a moment. If Katara hadn't known her better, the acrobat's words would've sounded almost normal. But because she knew Ty Lee, the words sounded lifeless, hollow, and while Katara couldn't expect much given the condition they'd found her in, the emptiness in Ty Lee's voice was disconcerting.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Suki said. "Sokka's smart, and cunning. He'll make it back to us soon."

"Of course he will," Katara said, still looking at Ty Lee. The acrobat gave no indication she'd heard any of the reassurances, no indication that there existed anyone outside of herself. Her gray eyes were a thousand miles away, her pupils reflecting the dancing flames.

They could not reach her.

Katara stood. "I'm going to look for something for breakfast tomorrow."

Zuko rose with her. "I'll come with you."

"Can't you just bend some fish out of the water tomorrow morning?" Toph asked, staring emptily to the side of the fire.

"Yes, but . . . There might be something else to eat on the island. We can't live on meat alone, you know."

Her father smiled. "Try convincing your brother of that."

Katara tried to smile back. Failed. Turned toward the jungle and started walking.

Once they were out of earshot, Zuko spoke. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing."

Zuko watched her for a long moment, evidently trying to decide whether it was best to press the issue, or if he should leave it alone. Katara hoped for both outcomes, wanting to hear his voice, but unwilling to share her worries about Ty Lee when it was really none of her business.

In the end, Zuko stayed silent, merely taking her hand. His fingers were warm, softer than she'd expected. It seemed strange that, for all they had touched, the softness of his skin still had the power to surprise her.

His fingers massaged the palm of her hand as he spoke. "I'm sorry things didn't turn out like you were hoping. I know you wanted to find your brother."

She shrugged. "It's all right. We found two people we weren't expecting to find. And I'm sure Sokka will show up soon. He always does." _Hopefully he'll bring Aang and Appa with him. _

"You always rely on your brother that much?" Zuko asked.

Katara was about to say: _Of course. He's my brother. _But the words stuck on her tongue when she realized the same logic didn't hold true for Zuko's family. "Well . . . yeah. I mean, he's never failed me before, at least never on anything important." She hesitated, then added, "Wasn't it ever like that with you and your sister?"

"No. Never."

"Not even when you were younger?"

Zuko shook his head. His dark hair flopped around, much messier than the stiff topknot he'd worn during their first encounter. "Azula was always Father's favorite. She was a firebending prodigy, a natural-born leader. She was everything our father had ever wanted in an heir, except she wasn't the firstborn. So all through our childhood, she was racing ahead to convince Father to label her the next heir to the throne, against tradition, and I was struggling to keep up with her so he wouldn't. There was . . . There was never any joy in our rivalry. She mocked me ruthlessly, tried to distract me. And when threw it back at her, it only ever hit me in the face." He lifted a hand to his scar.

"But I think I'm better off now," he went on, tracing the uneven skin of his long-healed burn. "I think being banished was the best thing my father could've done for me, whether he meant it to be or not. After all, I might've turned out like Azula if I'd stayed there."

"No." Katara took hold of his arm. "You could never be like Azula."

His golden eyes darted down to meet hers, overflowing with some unfathomable emotion. After a tense moment, he pressed his lips against her forehead. "Thanks Katara."

She planted a kiss on his lips. "Don't mention it."

* * *

><p>The boat listed sharply to the side as it collided with the dock. Iroh braced his hand against the wall, as if that would keep him steady.<p>

The ride had taken several days, the boat stopping at three different ports to load and unload cargo. Some of what the crew was transporting was mundane—furniture and carpets and things. Some of the cargo was rather . . . unsavory.

Yet part of him was glad of that. An elephant mouse trying to avoid the talons of a hawk knew to stay off the path, and for him, this was the best way to remain unnoticed.

He waited as crewmembers moved about the cargo hold, waited for them to bring him to the surface. Tazia had claimed they knew what they were doing, advised him to obey them until he was safely ashore, and Iroh had known the handmaid since before he'd become a General. So he waited.

Minutes passed, and a black-haired man peered around the corner. "It's time."

Iroh rose, joints cracking as he straightened out. The young man winced, as if he could feel the aches of age himself. "Thank you," Iroh said, stepping forward.

The man led him through a labyrinth of crates, glancing around as if he expected someone to jump out at him. When an elephant rat skittered by, his hand flew to the machete at his hip.

"I do not think you should be so nervous," Iroh said, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder. "If there were anything dangerous down here, I am sure I would have encountered it by now."

The man frowned and nodded, continuing up to the main level. When he opened a steel door, sunlight flooded in through the opening. Iroh closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "There is nothing more invigorating than a breath of fresh air after so long in confinement."

"Yeah, I guess . . ." The boy looked back down the steps, then through the doorway again. "It's daytime, so . . . um . . . Try not to look too suspicious, okay?"

Iroh smiled. "Of course."

The door opened wide, and for a moment, the brilliant circle of the sun pierced his eyes with its invigorating glow. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the afterimages as the young man led him across the deck. Once his vision had cleared a little bit, he saw people moving all around him, stacking crates onto pallets, to be wheeled onto shore. Some were already unloading the cargo, eyes darting around for potential watchers. Iroh could tell from their body language alone which boxes were full of legal cargo, and which were full of contraband.

"Your contact is just up that path, in the house at the top of the hill. She's expecting you."

Iroh bowed. "You are a good man."

A bit awkwardly, the man said, "Thanks."

Iroh smiled. The young man's reluctance to speak reminded him of his nephew. _Perhaps I will see him soon, once I am done here. _

They parted. Iroh started up the hill, walking leisurely so as not to draw attention to himself. The gravel crunched under his feet, a welcome sound after days on the groaning ship.

The house stood on the top of the hill, just where the young man had said it would be. Iroh approached and knocked on the door. A few moments later, it opened, and a girl of fifteen peered out. Her black eyes rested on him for a moment before she opened the door wider. "You are the Dragon of the West?"

"I have been called that."

The girl bowed. "It is an honor to meet you. Please, come in."

He stepped inside. The interior of the house was fairly simple—a tea table, a few chairs, a shelf devoted to scrolls. One figure stood at the opposite side of the room, looking out the window. "So you've come at last, Iroh. I was beginning to think my letter didn't make it."

His lips stretched into a smile. "It has been a long time, Ursa."


	36. Moving Forward, Thinking Back

Chapter Thirty-Six

"I am surprised to find you in Fire Nation territory," Iroh said, sitting down at the table as Ursa handed him a cup of tea.

"Then this hideout was well-placed."

Iroh inhaled, letting the fragrant tea fill his nose. Jasmine tea, he knew, though the scent was subtly different from the usual brew. When he tasted it, he identified several herbs seldom used because of their rarity. _Even after years of being away from the palace, she still has the taste of a princess. _"I was surprised to see your handmaid coming to break me out of jail," he added, nudging her toward an explanation.

Ursa smiled softly. "Tazia has always been loyal to me. I entrusted her with the task of taking care of my children while I was away." The last was said as if she'd intended only to take a day trip. "I knew she would care for them." Her smile faded, as if a shadow had fallen across her soul. "Though it seems things didn't turn out as planned."

Iroh blinked. "I am afraid I don't take your meaning."

Ursa sat down across from him with her own cup of jasmine. Her eyes strayed to a loose thread in her robe. "I heard Zuko was banished soon after Ozai took the throne?"

"He was."

"Is he doing well?"

Iroh hesitated. "I have not seen him in some time, but he has joined the Avatar's party."

Ursa nodded. "The Avatar will rejoin them soon. My little birds are out looking for him, and one of them is tracking a lead at the edge of the Earth Kingdom."

Iroh's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "The Avatar?"

"He's alive, Iroh. My daughter . . . My daughter made it appear as though he was dead. For months, they had him imprisoned. It was Tazia who freed him."

Iroh sunk back into his chair, every blood vessel bursting with relief. There might've been a way to end this war without the Avatar, but in all his contemplation, he hadn't been able to think of one that would allow lingering peace. Even if he defeated Ozai—and he wasn't certain he _could _anymore, old as he was—the world would view it as a brother killing a brother for power. With the assurance that the Avatar was alive, a new hope bloomed in his chest, warmer than the tea in his hands. "Then there remains hope for this world."

Ursa nodded. "Yes, but there are still things to do. We must find my son."

"I am afraid I do not know where he is."

She shook her head. "My little birds have many eyes. We should be able to judge their location based on where they were a few days ago."

A wrinkle formed above his eyebrows as he thought of his nephew's fruitless hunt for the Avatar. Never had he seen a group of children with such a talent for evasion. "There are many ways to catch a fish, Ursa. Some are better caught with a baited net than a hook."

Her eyes flashed up to meet his gaze; she set her tea down. "It's been years since I've seen my son, Iroh. If I don't find him soon, he might be lost to me forever."

The words stirred a tempest of sympathy in the old man's heart. To be separated from your son was enough of an ordeal. To be separated knowing he was in danger was a wholly different scenario.

He sipped his tea, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he considered their options. After a moment, he set his cup down. "Perhaps you are right."

Ursa's head shot up. "Truly? We can go?"

Iroh smiled. "It was never something you had to ask permission for. I was merely offering advice."

She stood. "Then we shall leave tonight. I _will _see my son before the comet."

* * *

><p>"Do you remember that time when you shot lightning at your sister?" Katara asked, staring at the gibbous moon. "In the Crystal Catacombs, I mean."<p>

Zuko's voice was as quiet as the whispering waves. "I remember."

A placid silence stretched between them. Katara brushed the sand off the back of her arms, then settled, hands behind her head.

After a minute, Zuko turned his head to look at her. The moonlight caught in his eyes, so they appeared to glow. "What about it?"

"I was just wondering . . . Why did you? I mean, I guess it could've been an accident—" Her mind flickered back to her escape from the Fire Nation hospital, to the blood running down the firebender's gown as she accidentally wrung the life out of him. "—but it looked like you meant to . . . you know . . ."

"Like I meant to kill her?"

"Yeah."

Zuko tilted his face up to the darkened sky. "I suppose I did."

Another silence, this one tense.

"Is that bad?" he asked.

Katara bit her lip. "I guess not. I mean, she _is _our enemy." _And if anyone deserves it, it's Azula. _"But is there a reason _why_ you . . ."

"Azula is exceptionally skilled. Deadly. You can't use half-measures when you're up against her; she'll crush you. So I . . . I don't know how it happened, exactly. It was like . . ." He fumbled with his words, gesturing as if that would help him explain. "I don't know how I did it. I'm not sure I could do it again."

Katara rolled over, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Not even during Sozin's Comet?"

His eyes flickered to hers. After a moment, he rolled onto his side to face her. "Why? Are you saying we should wait to act until the comet?"

She bit her lip. "No! I just thought . . . I don't know."

"Katara, that's _crazy_. And even if I _could _shoot lightning, Azula can redirect it."

The waterbender rolled over so she was facing away from him. She wasn't sure why it was bothering her so much, but Sokka would tell her that any edge they could find might be the deciding factor between victory and defeat. If Zuko could produce lightning—just once—and catch his sister or his father off-guard, that could be enough to keep him alive.

_The world could go on without me, _Katara thought, closing her eyes. _But if Zuko dies, there will be no one to take the throne, and the war will start up all over again. He has to make it through this, no matter what._

"Could you do it for me?" she asked quietly.

"Katara . . ."

"If my life depended on it, could you generate lightning?"

She could feel his gaze, heavy on the back of her neck, but she didn't roll to face him. If she let him see her expression now, he might guess her thoughts, find a way to counter her idea.

Several minutes passed, and she wondered if he'd dozed off. Firebenders rose with the sun, after all. But finally, he answered. "I would do anything to keep you alive."

She turned toward him and buried her face in the hollow of his throat so he couldn't see her expression. "You should practice, tomorrow. I think you could do it."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Okay. Tomorrow."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_I know it's been a long time, but I'm referencing chapter one of _The End of Hope _in this last section, when Zuko first generated lightning as he fought with Azula. I figured I'd have to reference that detail eventually, but I didn't think it would take this long, so I apologize if this last section seemed to come out of the blue._


	37. Taking the Throne

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Azula woke to the sound of her door creaking open.

Annoyance flared in her chest. The maintenance crew had fixed the hinges on her door a dozen times since she'd selected this bedroom, yet the metallic groan persisted. If it hadn't served as a warning against intruders, she would've changed rooms long ago.

She surfaced from her light sleep easily. It had been only an hour since she'd burned the blood-spattered gown she'd worn to assassinate her father, an hour since she'd wiped that final, incriminating spec of blood from her cheek. Her sleep was light, guarded, so when she opened her eyes, she had the presence of mind to act confused. "What's going on?"

One of the younger handmaids—the one who'd replaced the girl she'd burned to death a couple months ago—peered through the gap, her face leeched of all color.

"Who are you?" Azula demanded. "Why are you here?"

The girl threw herself to her knees, her breath shaking as she choked out the news Azula already knew. "Princess, your father has been assassinated."

_Such clean words for such an ugly subject, _Azula thought, crossing her eyes and raising her eyebrows as if she was still on the precipice of sleep. "What?"

"An assassin came to murder him in the night!" the servant cried, her black eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Oh, Princess, there was blood everywhere, and I . . . I could not bear it, I . . ."

Azula's jaw flexed. There was something subtly _off_ about the girl, something she recognized instinctively but could not name. The nascent tears, the ragged quality of her voice, her obvious unease . . .

The girl was overacting; she knew something.

_Now is not the time, _Azula's instincts told her. "Who attacked him?" she demanded, throwing the bed sheets aside and walking over to her dresser to find something more suitable for a public appearance. "Where is the assassin? Is the palace safe?"

All questions an uninformed princess would ask, if their father died. Yet the girl hesitated, as if these simple queries hadn't occurred to her. "The . . . We don't know, my Lady. The guards are searching the palace, and we've made sure this entire wing is secure, but . . . I can't say, Princess."

"You can't or you won't?"

The girl looked up, fear crawling across her face like an elephant rat onto a ship. "Princess? I . . . I don't understand."

Azula waved away the other girl's curiosity. "It doesn't matter. What's your name, girl?"

"Liang Chi."

"Liang Chi, if you value your life, go get one of the guards so they can tell me what happened to my father." _They won't suspect me if I am searching for the killer. _

The servant girl squeaked at the command and leapt to her feet, bowing with her arms rigid at her side. "At once, my Lady."

Azula watched Liang Chi skitter into the corridor, then turned to her dresser. She selected the dark red outfit she'd worn while tracking her brother and started dressing.

There was a knock on her door just as she finished pulling the protective shoulder pads over her outfit. "Come in."

One of her Dai-Li agents, still clad in the disgustingly cheery shade of green they'd worn in Ba Sing Se, stepped inside the room and knelt before her. "Princess."

"Tell me what happened to my father."

"One of our patrolling guards came in to check on him a few minutes ago, as we always do at the hour mark. When he saw the blood, he called for backup. I arrived shortly thereafter, but the damage was already done. The assassin had stuck in his heart. It was . . . It was already too late for him when we arrived. The medical team pronounced him dead upon examination. Our captain sent one of your handmaids to give you word of this calamity so we could search the palace for assassins."

"Did you find any?" Azula asked, the gears of her mind spinning furiously. _No mention of whose knife it was, and no mention of a figure running back this way. No one saw me. _Her heart pounded beneath her ribs, responding to the reflexive urge to flee despite her apparent safety. She suppressed the instinct—she was the princess, and she didn't expect to be brought to justice for patricide, but any rash decisions could affect her reign as Fire Lord.

The realization stirred a tendril of excitement in her. _I'm going to be Fire Lord now, _she thought. Somehow, that was more shocking than the fact that she'd murdered her father a couple hours ago. _I've done it. My brother is banished, my father is dead, and nothing else stands in my way._

All of this, her mind processed in the moment it took the Dai-Li agent to answer. "We haven't found any assassins yet, but all the servants are being detained for further questioning. With your permission, we will start interrogating them."

"Do so at once," she said.

The man bowed and left.

Azula turned toward the mirror attached to her dresser. In the center, her face sat, chin raised proudly, hair cascading down her back as it always did after she took it down. Two faces framed hers, one on each side. On the left, Mai stared expressionlessly at the mirror, saying nothing. On the right stood her mother, her features unmarred and idealized to Azula's mind after years of separation. Ursa's tight expression seemed to indicate disappointment, but the look there stirred no emotion in Azula. _You abandoned me, _she thought. _You abandoned me and left me with _him_. Are you so surprised at what I did? _

The door opened again, the creak grating on her ears like chalk scraping across a blackboard. Aggravating. _It doesn't matter. I can move to my father's chambers as soon as the cleanup is done._

Her back stiffened at the thought of sleeping in a dead man's room. She revised her decision, choosing instead to have the interior designers create a new bedchamber for her.

The next few minutes passed in a frenzy of activity. The person at her door turned out to be a member of her Royal Guard. The group proceeded to encircle her as she moved about the palace, tending to duties she hadn't foreseen. Before any of that, she commanded them to bring her to the place where her father had died. _It is expected of me, _she reminded herself as she stepped through the threshold. _I must appear for all the world as if this is as shocking to me as it is to them. _

Her father had been an impressive man in life. In death, he was no greater than any fallen foot soldier in the battlefield. Azula observed him, a strange apathy creeping over her. She tried to summon to mind the times he'd praised her firebending, or the times he'd commended her for being an exceptional warrior, all in an attempt to draw some actual grief from her heart as she stared at his blood-crusted corpse. But she couldn't muster even a single tear, and instead of his praise echoing around in her head, all she heard was the words that had crossed his lips when he'd stripped away her status as heir.

_But there are no other heirs now, and Zuko is in greater disfavor than I am. No one will oppose me. _

And no one did. They all called her "princess," just as their lower rank commanded of them, and though none seemed to grasp that she'd technically become the Fire Lord the moment Ozai's heart had stopped, they all accorded her the utmost respect and condolences as she marched through the palace corridors.

Eventually, the Royal Guard brought her to the throne room. She walked up to the platform, raising a curtain of blue fire as she ascended the three steps that separated her from every lowborn servant that traipsed through here. She walked up to the imposing chair her father had occupied when presiding over the court and sat down, crossing one leg over the other.

Azula did not accept the throne; she _took _it. It was _hers_, and she deserved it.

"Bring the council members here," she commanded of no one in particular. After a beat, a member of her Royal Guard broke file and retreated from the room to seek them out. The others stood, solid and unyielding as steel.

"The rest of you break up into two groups. One group goes to find my father's killer, the other stays here to protect your rightful Fire Lord."

There was a flurry of motion at this, not all of it instantly obedient. Azula stared down at her Royal Guard, watching them from the dais like a messenger hawk glaring down at an elephant rat. After a moment, they all averted their gazes, divvying up tasks and splitting up as she'd instructed them. Those that remained took positions against each of the walls, guarding her just as they'd guarded her father.

_What a pity none of them were watching when I killed him, _she thought emptily. _I'll have to have these guards replaced. They're clearly not fit for the job. _

A few minutes later, the council members filed in. They were comprised mostly of members of the noble families, though there were a few of lower birth among them who'd clawed their way through the ranks. Azula met each of their eyes, her piercing gaze met only by silence.

When they had all assembled, she rose from the throne and stepped toward the fire. It had reverted to the normal orange color after the initial ignition, but as she drew closer, the base of the fire glowed blue. Satisfaction washed through her as she took in the startled expressions of her council. "My father was assassinated earlier tonight," she said, scrutinizing every face for signs of surprise. There was some uneasy shuffling, but no one dared speak out until she gave them permission to do so. She paced across the dais, breaking eye contact. "The shock and outrage of this attack will spread throughout the Fire Nation like a flame that cannot be quenched, but we must remain solid until we win the war. In the interest of keeping this nation in tact, I will now be serving as your one true Fire Lord."

A whisper of anxiety ripped through the crowd. This wasn't protocol—even the boldest Fire Lords didn't crown themselves. Then again, no Fire Lord had ever been born a woman, either. Azula could only imagine how many traditions she was trampling over tonight. She went on. "Sozin's Comet arrives within the month. I assume you are all aware of what that means."

Their whispers hadn't calmed. If anything, they grew louder, hissing like a flame rebelling against the rain.

"My father was a great man," she said. She'd always been an exceptional liar. "And I am the only person fit to take his place, however tragic the circumstances of my coronation are. The first order of business—"

The sound of the doors flying open cut her off. Azula's hands curled into fists, fire escaping between her knuckles.

Two of her guards had dragged Liang Chi to the throne room. The servant's dress was soiled with ash, as if she'd rolled around in a fireplace. Her sooty face wore clear streaks where her tears had run.

"Princess, we found this traitor digging through your chamber's fireplace!" one of the guards yelled, as the other pinned the sobbing handmaid to the floor. "The embers were still hot, and smoke was rising from the coals. We believe she was trying to burn evidence left by your father's assassin."

Azula stepped forward, latching onto the opportunity with the same cool grace she used to command men in battle. "Tell me, what was she burning?"

Liang Chi started screaming. "I wasn't burning anything, Princess, I swear! I was just looking into the fireplace, and I thought—"

"Thought what?" Azula demanded. "What were you doing in my chambers?"

A short-lived squeak escaped the girl's lips, and she tried to jerk her arm away from the guard's hand. His grip didn't falter.

"Tell me, Liang Chi, what were you doing in my chambers? Are you the one who killed my father? Did you intend to kill me as well?"

"No, never—"

"Bring her forward," Azula commanded. "And let it be known that my subjects will not be executed without a trial." Her gaze slid back to the sobbing handmaid. "Even if they _are _traitors."

The guard picked Liang Chi up by the collar of her kimono and dragged her forward as her cries rose with hysteria. "No, Princess, no!"

"Close the doors this time," Azula said. "I will not have any heads rolling out into the hallway tonight."

One of the guards broke off from the pack to obey, while the council members and other nonessential personnel shuffled off to the side of the room. Liang Chi continued sobbing, her beady eyes begging forgiveness.

The throne room doors shut with a sound of finality.


	38. Opposing Elements

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Zuko lifted his arm, pointing two fingers toward the edge of a cloud. He could feel the energy snaking through his body, twisting and writhing like fire that didn't burn. The separation, the flow of positive and negative energies reaching for each other, radiated out from his body in an almost tangible mass. _I can do this, _he told himself. _If Katara's life is in danger, I have to be able to do this. _

He exhaled, then inhaled. Uncle had always told him firebending came from the breath. _But Uncle isn't here anymore. He was imprisoned, just like everyone else was on the Day of Black Sun._

Zuko had memorized this form long ago, practiced it first with fire, then adapted it for lightning, as Uncle had taught him. The only problem was that he'd never actually _succeeded _in generating lightning except for the flukes he'd experienced when fighting Azula.

Azula.

Azula, who could wield lightning as easily as he could wield dual blades. Azula, who had always surpassed him where it really counted, both in training and in gaining favor with their father. Azula, who was nigh undefeatable.

Azula, who was his little sister.

Energy flooded through his arm, focusing at his fingertips. He could _feel _the lightning building, could feel the strange, intense sensation building under his skin. Just as he was about to release it, Azula's face flashed through his mind, and the opposing energies collided. Half a second too late, he released his chi.

The energy rebounded back to him, slamming hard into his chest and throwing him onto the sand. Heat flared at his fingertips, but it wasn't the comforting warmth of a controlled flame. Zuko yanked his hand back, burying his fingertips in the sand to smother the flames that wanted to cling to his flesh.

Katara dropped the globe of water she'd been manipulating and ran over to him. "Zuko, are you okay?"

He pulled his fingers from the sand and stared at them. Already, a blister was forming on his thumb.

Katara knelt down beside him, bringing a stream of saltwater from the ocean. "Hold still."

He held his palm out, wincing when the saltwater started seeping into his skin. _I never thought water could burn like fire, _he thought. "Isn't there a less painful way to do this?"

Katara's hand grazed his index finger, the glowing water taking some of the sting out of the contact. He still winced. "Sorry," she said. "But the only other way I know how to heal is through blood."

"Wouldn't that be better?"

Her striking eyes flashed up to his, then away. After a long moment, she said, "Maybe. But I'm not sure I can. It's a lot harder than normal waterbending."

"Making lightning is a lot harder than normal firebending," he countered.

"Yes but . . . This gets the job done almost as well."

"And firebending is almost as good as generating lightning! Why do I have to work my butt off trying to shoot lightning when you don't even have to leave your comfort zone?"

Katara's eyes flashed up to meet his, her face freezing. The water lost its luminescence and fell lifelessly to the sand beside him. "I can't," she whispered, the color draining out of her face. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Last time I tried to bloodbend, I killed someone."

He flinched. "Yes, but . . . Katara, this is war. People are dying every day."

"You don't understand!" She flinched, as if the volume of her own voice had surprised her. "It wasn't like that. He was trying to capture me for the Fire Nation, yes, but he was a patient, too. He was doing the honorable thing, trying to stop me. And I . . ." She faltered, fingers flexing. "And I killed him, Zuko. I killed a man who didn't deserve to die."

_Honor, _Zuko thought, his reply stuck on his tongue. It always came down to honor. And Katara was the kind of person who would agonize over killing someone who was just trying to preserve his honor, not realizing she would've damaged it just as much by leaving him alive.

He wanted so badly to comfort her. He hated seeing her so distraught—it brought back images of her awful grief upon hearing about the Avatar's apparent death, of her almost fatal trek into the jungle—but the mention of honor propelled him back into that furious quest to regain his father's respect.

_Even if I'm with the Avatar's group now, I still have to regain my honor. And the only way to do that is by defeating my father in battle. _He withdrew his hand from Katara's, turning back toward the beach. "Let's make a deal," he said, not allowing himself to look back to gauge her reaction. "I know it brings back bad memories for you, but if I have to practice shooting lighting, you have to practice your bloodbending."

"Zuko—"

"That's the deal, Katara. It could come in useful in the battle, and any edge we can get could keep us from dying."

"Zuko, this is crazy."

He turned toward her, taking her hands between his. "It's saved your life twice now—once on the Day of Black Sun and once during your escape. You can't deny how useful it is."

"You can't deny how dangerous it is! What if I mess up? Blood is much harder to bend than ordinary water, and the techniques are a lot more dangerous. That—" She snapped her fingers. "_That_, Zuko, is how easily I can burst a blood vessel. The damage I could do to the human body without even _meaning _to . . . It's not worth it."

Zuko made an exasperated gesture. "But it's already saved your life! Couldn't you just practice? You can learn as you go, and if that fails, you can go back to regular waterbending to heal any injuries you cause."

A look of shock flitted across her face, but when she spoke, he sensed a wavering in her voice. "It's not that simple."

"It is," Zuko said. "Just like lightning is supposed to be simple. But if you don't practice, you could mess up when it really _does_ count."

From the look on her face, he knew he'd demolished her primary arguments. Finally, Katara made a frustrated gesture. "If it's a life or death situation, I'll do it. But only then."

Zuko lowered his hand and kicked a seashell across the beach. Sand scattered in a wave where his toes hit the ground, raining down in tiny particles. "Ugh. Fine, don't practice then. I'll just be busy trying to shoot lightning out of my fingertips."

Katara crossed her arms. "Well, _fine by me_," she said. "And while you do that, I'm going to be practicing my _water_bending on the other side of the island."

"Fine! Go!"

"I _will_!"

"Then go!"

She turned away, snatching her bag from the sand and stalking off into the jungle.

It took Zuko a few minutes to realize he'd just driven off the one person who could heal him if the lightning exploded in his face again. He groaned. _Idiot, _he thought to himself. _Now you have nothing. _

He exhaled, fire flaring under his nose. Then he turned back toward the ocean.

The lightning wasn't going to generate itself, after all.


	39. The End of Mercy

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Liang Chi had known fear.

Never like this.

"Please Princess, they're mistaken. I only meant to replace a log that had fallen out of the fire. It was for your own wellbeing!" A sob escaped her throat, the muscles in her abdomen contracting. The guard's hands, already as tight as shackles around her wrists, squeezed tighter; she whimpered.

"You," Azula said. Liang Chi's eyes flashed up to the princess, but Azula wasn't looking at her. Instead, her head was turned toward the council that usually appealed to Ozai. "All of you will act as witnesses. If the girl is innocent, she will not be executed. However—" Azula's cold brown eyes flashed back to her. Liang Chi shuddered. "if she's guilty, we'll make an example out of her."

An uneasy murmur slithered through the councilors. When one of the men stepped forward and bowed, however, the rest followed suit. "We are honored to serve as jury, Fire Lord Azula."

_Fire Lord Azula? _Liang Chi thought. The title sent twin pangs of horror and hope through her. Azula's word was law now. If she decided to spare her, Liang Chi could walk away from the palace free. Yet if Azula sought to condemn her, there was nothing she could do. If she could convince the princess she wasn't a traitor . . .

"Liang Chi, was it?" Azula asked, arching an eyebrow as if daring her to deny her name.

"Yes, my Lady."

Azula's voice sharpened. "Speak louder so my jury can hear you," she commanded, the flames at her feet rising and turning cobalt blue.

"Yes, my Lady," she said, straining to be heard over the whispering flames.

"What is your rank and purpose among the servants?"

Her tongue dried out, throat closing up as her once-reasonable claims withered in her mind. Ozai had always been aware of her purpose here, ever since he'd hired her to ferret out traitors in the palace. Traitors like Tazia, who'd been leaking information to the resistance for years. Now, with Azula's harsh eyes boring down on her, her answer seemed ridiculous. _I was hired for espionage, _she thought. _I should be better at lying than this. _"I . . ."

"Yes, yes, go _on_."

She licked her lips, staring at a spot of brown on the floor. At first, she thought it was a drop of paint, carelessly spilled on the throne room floor and gone unnoticed. Even as her mind made up an excuse for the stain, her subconscious recognized the texture of dried blood.

_This is where they chopped off Tazia's head, _whispered the insidious, self-destructive part of her mind. _You're sitting right where she bled out, and your hands are stained red. _

The other part of her brain fumbled for an answer that would preserve her life. "I am your loyal servant, my Lady."

Azula sighed. "Loyal servant? Then why didn't I know your name until you woke me this evening?"

"I . . ." _I can't breathe. _"I don't know."

"Stop mumbling and give me a straight answer! Why, Liang Chi," Azula said, and the sound of her own name made the servant flinch. "were you hired? I've seen you skulking around this palace for months, back when I had a personal handmaid to care for me. What purpose would Father have in hiring a new one when I was already being cared for?"

"I don't know, my Lady."

Azula turned away from her, pacing across the dais like a tigerdillo stalking its prey. "Fine. Since you can't give me a satisfactory answer, let's try a different question. The guards claimed they found you in my chambers, digging through my fireplace. Is there any truth to that?"

_She knows. _The thought came out of nowhere, echoing around her skull with the force of a club. _She knows I'm lying and she's going to kill me. _Liang Chi coughed, her raw throat rubbing together with each spasm. _Perhaps if I am honest, I can still appease her. _"That is true, but—"

"But you claimed the opposite when the guards dragged you in. It is treason to speak falsely to your Fire Lord, but if you tell me the truth now, I will not have you executed for deceit."

Liang Chi bowed, bashing her head against the hardwood floor. "Forgive me, my Lady! It was a lie of fear, nothing more. I didn't mean to deceive you."

Azula fell quiet. It was an awful, gut-wrenching silence.

"They claimed you were trying to burn something in that fire," Azula finally said. "What was it?"

_No, no, no, no!_ she thought, remembering the scrap of silk she'd pulled from the still-hot coals, remembering the princess walking through the halls hours before in a robe made of the same material, remembering that vile, insidious, _deadly _hope that she'd caught the new Fire Lord doing something that would cause her to fall from power before she ever reached the top. Liang Chi had always been equipped for espionage. Her mind functioned differently when she uncovered evidence, sharpened like a sword against a whetstone. She hadn't meant to incriminate the princess, yet she'd linked the evidence back to the firebender without considering the consequences. She had, in one moment of unintended treason, believed Azula capable of the crime.

Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes. The princess was staring back at her, with an expression so intense, Liang Chi wondered how she wasn't already on fire. Yet part of her—the survival instinct that had already drifted perilously close to the surface tonight—was busy calculating. Azula wouldn't need to condemn her so soon unless there was some reason, some motive besides mere justice.

And then she knew.

_No, this can't be happening to me. I'm a servant, not a scapegoat. My words condemned Tazia, but I don't deserve to die. I was only doing my job. I was only . . . _Her body broke down, untamed sobs tearing free of her throat. Tears flooded her eyes and overflowed, running down the soot-covered skin of her cheeks.

_Azula killed Ozai, _she thought. It was a dangerous, treasonous thought, yet as soon as she thought it, she knew it to be true. And for all the little lies she'd told the other serving girls, for all the tiny freedoms Ozai had given her so she could perform her duty, Liang Chi _wanted _to tell the truth.

To tell the truth was to die. To lie was to be condemned.

Her survival instinct won out. "A log had rolled out from the hearth, one side still glowing red with embers. I thought only of your safety when I reached over to put it back in the fire."

"Your whole face is covered with ash. You mean to say that little task made you _this _filthy?"

_To tell the truth is to die, _she thought. "Yes, my Lady."

Azula's hawk-like eyes zeroed in on her face. Liang Chi's heart clenched, as if crushed between a badgermole's claws. _It's not good enough, _she thought. _She doesn't believe me. _Her body shook, and she pitched forward as if to throw herself at Azula's feet and beg for mercy. The guard holding her wrists was having none of it—he yanked her back so fast, the vertebrae in her neck cracked. She started hyperventilating.

Azula turned away, walking purposefully back to the throne. "One last question," she said, raising her voice so everyone could hear. Once again, she turned, bringing the full force of her gaze down on Liang Chi. "What was a servant doing in my chambers without permission?"

Liang Chi froze.

The sound of Azula's shoes tapping was the only sound in the throne room. When Liang Chi didn't answer, the new Fire Lord spoke. "My door closes if it's not held open. It also creaks. If I recall correctly, you were _outside _my door the last time I heard it creak. So how did you see the burning log threatening my life if you were outside?"

_I have no answer, _she thought. _I have no answer! _

"That doesn't seem like an especially intelligent move, given that my father was murdered a few hours ago. Even a lowborn servant like you ought to know that." Azula turned to her councilors for the first time since the "trial" had begun. "This girl will be charged with my father's assassination and my attempted assassination, as well as espionage and destruction of evidence. Are there any among you who disagree with these charges?"

Liang Chi had grown up in a mining town in the Copper Islands. Her ears had been violated by the sinister groan of the rigging, the high-pitched wail of whirring machines, even the occasional, bloodcurdling scream of a man injured in the mines. But there was no sound so profoundly disturbing as the silence after Azula's question.

"It would seem," Azula said, lingering on the words. "you are a traitor. You will be executed at—"

"It was _you_!" she screamed, jerking one arm free of the guard's grasp. Her body shuffled forward, knees bruising against the hardwood floor. "_You _killed Ozai! You're an usurper, a _murderer_!"

Liang Chi's heart flared with hope as the shock flitted across the princess's face. She plowed on, relentless. "I _saw _your silk gown in the fireplace. You burned it because it was covered in your father's blood, didn't you?" Her voice rose in pitch, breaking as she fought back the sobs. "You killed your own _father_, how can you lead a nation?"

"Enough of your lies!" Azula snapped. "Be silent, or your execution will be a slow one."

"I will not be silenced!" she shrieked. "_You _are the traitor, not _me_! You murdered your father for the crown because you were too cowardly to face him in a duel! Your _brother _had more honor than you!"

The line of fire at Azula's feet flared. "Shut up!"

"How can _anyone _follow you when you don't even have the honor to speak the truth to your servants? If you confess, Azula, the Fire Nation will accept you with little resistance, but if you don't, the world will know you for a liar!"

"Silence her!" Azula shouted, looking beyond her. Liang Chi writhed in the guard's hands, hearing the movement of the guards behind her.

"I would do the honor, Fire Lady Azula," one of them said, raising a halberd. The flickering flames reflected on the blade, lending it an eerie blue tinge.

"Leave her alive," Azula panted, as if the whole ordeal had exhausted her. "Just keep her quiet. I want to make an example of her. Her corpse is worthless to me."

Horrifying visions of what Azula planned flickered through Liang Chi's mind. A strange detachment came over her, and though her body continued to struggle, her hands clawing uselessly at her captor's armor, her mind cleared.

_I'm going to die. I'm going to die, and the Fire Nation will never know the monster that controls them. _

Vaguely, she was aware that her arguments had turned to wordless shrieks. The guards wrapped a cloth around her mouth, thick enough to gag her, but not so thick that it threatened to suffocate her.

"Give her to the guards," Azula commanded.

"My Lady?"

_Wow, even the guards are shocked, _Liang Chi thought numbly, her struggles redoubling at the command.

"You heard me. Tell them she's a gift, for their loyal service tonight. _Go_."

_Please, I'm only twelve, you can't do this to me . . ._

But they were. After a brief hesitation, the guard restraining her hoisted her up and pinned her arms to her side. Two Dai-Li agents shot rock fists in her direction, holding her arms in place so the firebenders could lead her out of the throne room.

"She will be executed tomorrow evening. They can have her until then."

_I'm sorry, Tazia, _she thought. _I shouldn't have stopped you. I should've pretended not to see. I'm sorry . . . _

"Come on, girl," one of her captors murmured, a seed of lust sprouting in his voice. "It's time to serve your punishment."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_If there was ever a line, Azula has crossed it._


	40. Hard Lessons

Chapter Forty

Zou held the flame in the palm of his hand, shielding it from the wind. "Now," he said, speaking loudly over the howling wind. Trying to teach the Avatar firebending while they were riding on a giant flying bison wasn't the perfect scenario, but with as little time as they had, it was the only option. "Fire is the element of power, and firebending is controlled by your breath."

The Avatar nodded, scratching the side of his head. "Okay . . ." Aang said. "So, how do we start?"

Zou let the flame in his hand bloom, until it was the size of his head. Orange light flickered across the airbender's face, and he flinched, his hand going to the scar under his robes. "The first thing you have to learn is how to hold a flame in your hand without burning yourself. The best way to do _that _is for you to just take this fire and concentrate on keeping it alive without letting it touch your skin."

The Avatar frowned. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"All firebending is dangerous."

Aang's gray eyes flickered to his face, then to the flame. "This wind is going to make it move around."

"Yes," Zou said. "But you can't be afraid."

"Maybe we should wait until we find everyone else."

"Stop stalling! You'll never learn firebending if you're too afraid to try. Now take the flame." He held his hands out, cupping the fire between his palms like a small rodent. The Avatar stared at it warily, eyebrows slanting down in concentration. Then, like a timid child reaching out to pet a spidersnake, the Avatar reached forward. Zou let the fire go, gradually allowing the airbender to take control. It flickered like a candle flame dying in the breeze.

"Let it burn," Zou said. "Give it more power."

"I'm _trying_."

_Try harder, _he wanted to say. He bit his tongue. Sokka had told him about the Avatar's trouble with earthbending—being stubborn and demanding wasn't going to help him learn firebending. _How can I motivate him? He knows how close Sozin's Comet is. He knows what he stands to lose. Shouldn't that be motivation enough? _Zou frowned. He'd never had a problem getting motivated. Fourteen years living as a bastard under his father's roof had conditioned him to face opposition no matter what the cost. _The royal family has to die before the comet—that's the only way to make sure this war doesn't flare up again. _

He realized the Avatar was staring at him. "What is it?"

"Um . . . The fire went out."

Zou looked down. Blinked. Said nothing.

"Sorry," Aang said sheepishly.

Zou sighed and clasped his hands together. When they came apart, a new ball of fire bloomed between them. "It's fine. Just try again." He held out the flame, waiting. Uncertainly, the Avatar cradled the little sphere. By the time it had changed hands, it was half its original size.

"You need to put more emotion behind it," Zou told him. "More anger, more rage. The more you _feel_, the stronger your firebending is going to be."

"Monk Gyatso taught me—"

"Listen! Peace of mind and forgiveness may work for airbending, but it won't work _here_. You have to put some real emotion behind it, otherwise the flame's going to—"

The fire, by now only the size of a candle flame, guttered out.

"—die . . ." Zou finished weakly. He buried his face in his hands. _Don't get angry, _he told himself. _He's only twelve. He needs guidance, not commands._ Zou took a deep breath, feeling the embers within him stir, like a sleeping dragon. "Okay. Back to the fundamentals. You know how to breathe, don't you?"

"Uh . . . Yes. Doesn't everybody?"

_Maybe I should've been more specific. _"Do you know how to breathe like a firebender?"

The airbender brightened, sitting up taller. "Yeah. Jeong Jeong taught me how to breathe properly on top of a mountain."

"Jeong Jeong . . . The _Deserter_?"

"That's right! I met him while we were traveling through the Earth Kingdom."

Zou leaned forward. _Focus. Adventure stories later._ "And how much did he teach you, exactly?"

Aang's smile faltered. "Well, he taught me how to breathe, and he taught me a firebending stance." The Avatar's gray eyes turned down. When he spoke again, his voice was subdued. "He taught me that firebending can do a lot of harm if it's not well-controlled. I got sick of his lessons because I thought he wasn't teaching me anything, so I tried to firebend on my own. But my friend Katara was nearby, and I accidentally burned her hands." His expression grew somehow more downcast. "I haven't really tried since then."

"So you're afraid of hurting people."

The Avatar shrugged. "I guess so."

Zou looked over to Sokka, leaning over the front edge of the saddle. "Sokka, would you come here for a second?"

The water tribe warrior glanced back, then looked forward again. "I'm kind of _busy_."

_Well this is going to hurt. _Zou extended his hand, palm up, and created another fireball. "Okay, here's the deal," he said to the Avatar. "We'll learn about control first. I'm going to hold this flame in my hand, all right?"

The Avatar nodded, eyebrows coming together in confusion. "Okay . . ."

"You're going to try and put out this fire just with the force of your will. If you want it badly enough, you should be able to put out the fire fairly easily. Extinguishing your opponent's flame is one of the few ways to defend yourself in firebending."

"Okay. I can do that."

"One more thing," Zou said, lifting his other hand so it rested just above the flame. "I'm going to lower this hand until it touches the flame. If you can't extinguish it in time, my hand will burn."

"You can't do that!" Aang cried.

"Too bad. I am. Now let's get started." He concentrated, keeping the flame steady as he lowered his hand. Within seconds, he could feel the heat licking his palm, threatening to consume him.

A few feet away, Aang began to fidget, breathing hard as if that would help him control the flame.

Zou continued to lower his hand. _Do it, _he told himself. _He's mastered the other three elements, he can figure this out. Don't be afraid of the fire. _His palm was close enough to the tip of the flame to cause him pain. He took a deep breath, forcing the column of fire to remain steady. _You can't be afraid. You can't ever show fear, especially not now. _

Lower. The tip of the flame traced the line of his palm. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

Aang made a panicked sound.

Zou's teeth buried themselves in his lower lip. His skin was almost certainly starting to blister. He fought the impulse to withdraw his hand.

"Stop!" Aang yelled. "I can't do it!"

"Do it," he hissed. His vision blurred, but whether that was from the pain or the tears, he couldn't tell.

The Avatar bounced up and down where he sat, flustered.

Zou lowered his hand another half an inch. Then a whole inch. More tears ran down the sides of his face.

A hand came down around his wrist and jerked his burning hand away from the flame. "What are you _doing_?" Sokka demanded, one hand still secure around the reins, the other wrapped around Zou's wrist like a tourniquet.

Zou frowned, disoriented. "He has to learn."

"You're going to get yourself killed!"

"This is how my father taught me!" he exploded, blinking away the last of his tears. "Except he didn't threaten to burn himself. He burnt _me_. You should be glad I'm not doing the same!"

Sokka stared at him, dropping the reins. "Your _father—_"

"I was a bastard. I wasn't important like his trueborn heirs, but I was the only one of his children who could firebend. I had something to prove to him."

"By letting him burn you?" Sokka demanded.

"Yes! Don't you understand? To be a bastard in the Fire Nation—I brought dishonor on my father just by existing. I _had _to prove I could bring him honor, no matter how much it hurt. I thought if I learned firebending, that would make him happy, but it didn't. He was always ashamed of me." He could hear the tremor in his own voice. He forced himself to remained composed. "That's why I joined the rebels. I couldn't make my father proud, so I decided to defy him, however I could. And you know what?" He looked between them, meeting both of their eyes. "None of it will mean anything unless the war ends before the comet."

They both stared at him, matching looks of horror on their faces. Sokka was the first to recover. "I can't imagine my father doing anything like that, no matter how desperate we were."

"Your father's not from the Fire Nation."

"That shouldn't matter!" Sokka said fiercely.

"It shouldn't. But it does." He turned his hand over, fighting a wave of nausea when he saw the blackened bits of skin.

"Here," Aang said, pulling a water skin from his belongings and bending the water out of it. "Let me see your hand."

Uncertainly, Zou held out his damaged hand. The water ran over his skin in a thin film, cool to the touch. He let out a ragged breath, not sure if he wanted to scream or melt in relief. A moment later, the water started glowing, and he shuddered.

The Avatar had mentioned he'd learned how to heal. Up until that moment, Zou hadn't thought it was possible. Yet the burn on his hand began to fade, the blackened bits falling off while the red flesh turned pink and healthy again. The pain faded with the mark. "Amazing," he whispered.

"Sometimes we get hurt," the Avatar said. "But you can always heal, no matter how much you've suffered."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_I know. Ten days since my last update. I'm a monster. Sadly, it's not going to get much better until summer break. I started a new book(a real one this time!) a couple days ago, so I haven't been working on my fan fiction. Sorry._


	41. Broken

Chapter Forty-One

Ty Lee saw.

It wasn't because she had any special sight or way of knowing what was going on within the group. It was because she was always watching. Had always watched, even when the first tiny cracks had formed in Azula, years ago. And if she could see through Azula's lies, there was no way she could miss the obvious fissure forming in this group.

"Would you like some ocean kumquats, Zuko?" Katara asked, her voice level, detached. Part of the group without being part of them.

"No thank you," Zuko said, which was the expected answer. He'd been saying the same to Katara for the past two days now, whenever she asked him something. This time, he added, "I'm busy."

It was a good enough excuse. Zuko was busy massaging salve into the first-degree burns on his fingertips, a side-effect of his inability to generate true lightning(though Ty Lee knew from personal experience that he _was _capable of it). In a moment, he'd be busy bandaging those same fingers, as closed off and distant from the Avatar's group as he'd been before he'd joined them.

All this Ty Lee saw, but did not mention.

Katara had caught fish for dinner again, and pulled a bunch of ocean kumquats from the salty waters. It wasn't anything like the food Ty Lee was used to, but after her imprisonment, it took everything she had not to hoard her dinner so it couldn't be snatched from her fingers. _I have to get better, _she kept telling herself, whenever her fingers twitched toward her clothes, as if trying to hide the food there without her conscious consent. _I can't let what happened hang over me like this. _

But it did, and as soon as she started thinking about it, she stopped watching and retreated within herself, to that dark place where her arms had been pinned, wrists slick with blood and other, more sinister substances. Ty Lee bit her lip hard enough to taste metal and salt. A thick fluid trickled down her throat, flavoring the leftover bits of fish stuck to her tongue. Her eyelids slid shut, then tightened, wrinkling around the edges as she tried to block out the memories, the pain.

It took her a minute to realize someone was calling her name.

"Ty Lee, do you want some ocean kumquats? Ty Lee?"

Her breath quickened, flashes of sound returning to her. _"Do you want something to eat, little girl? We'll feed you, but you have to work for it."_ Nausea swelled in her stomach, like the lilt of a boat over choppy waters. She shook her head.

"Ty Lee, you have to eat. I can get you something else, if you'd like."

She recognized the voice now—it was Katara, offering her the same food she'd offered to Zuko a moment ago. But now Katara was insistent instead of disinterested, trying to get her to eat something when all she wanted to do was hide it away so she could eat in peace later.

"It's good for you," Katara said in a sing-song voice that was probably meant to sound maternal, but rang hollowly in her ears. Because the waterbender couldn't possibly want to take care of her like that—Ty Lee's very existence was a chore, a duty to be endured, like caring for a younger sibling.

"_I just wish she had sisters here. More fun to go around." _

"I'm not hungry," she said, not sure if that was a lie. Her stomach churned, nausea battling the pangs of hunger she'd felt a few minutes ago, when the smell of fish roasting over the fire(Zuko's fire, she knew, because she always watched, and because she watched, she saw everything) had driven her into a fit. She remembered Toph kneeling down beside her, looking off to the side with her unseeing eyes as she murmured false reassurances about how everything would be okay.

Toph, who did not pity anyone, actually pitied her.

"You should eat," Katara was saying. "You'll—"

"_I don't want to eat_." The words were quiet, but said in such a way that Katara flinched, retreating several steps. Ty Lee saw the defensive tightening of the waterbender's shoulders, saw the flash of fear, followed immediately by sympathy—pointless, _pointless _sympathy—saw the way Katara's fingers tightened around the wooden bowl, saw the way the others tensed, watching her like a platypus bear pacing in its cage . . .

Saw it all because she always _saw_. Saw it all because she wasn't blind to the world's worst cruelties anymore. Saw it all because all she could do was watch.

But now _they _were watching _her_. They knew what had been done to her, they knew, they could _see_—

Ty Lee shot to her feet, and felt a stab of triumph when she watched Katara flinch. Glee washed over her, burning like acid against her skin as she advanced. The waterbender retreated. Her breath came quicker, until it felt like fire was slowly blooming in her chest.

Sand scattered as the forgotten basket of kumquats fell to the ground.

Ty Lee kept moving. _She won't fight back, _she thought, hands shaking. _I can take her down, she won't fight me, not if she pities me. She can't fight me. But I can fight her. _

That was all she wanted really. If she'd had a clearer head, she might've acknowledged the desire as something Azula would want, something she should avoid thinking about. But everything had taken on a hazy quality, and she couldn't quite figure out why she should stop.

"I don't want to eat," she whispered. Quiet as it was, her voice fell across the campsite, heard by every ear. "I want to die."

"Ty Lee . . ." someone whispered. Katara.

Something moved in Ty Lee's peripheral vision, a flicker of blue and brown. _Sokka! _she nearly cried. But she bit her lip again, more sweet blood flowing out of the much-abused skin, biting the name back. Sokka wasn't here.

Sokka wasn't here. Just Hakoda.

A shudder of disappointment ran down her frame. She dragged a shaky breath through her teeth.

In the end, it wasn't Katara's father who intervened. It was Zuko. The firebender stepped between them, nostrils flaring, every movement as sinuous as a tigerdillo. Ty Lee stared at him, still advancing, waiting for him to move. He held fast, refusing to give up his position.

She hesitated.

"That's enough," Zuko said. She flinched at his voice, the same way she flinched at every male voice these days. She realized she'd stopped. Sand pushed its way through the crevices between her toes.

She wasn't sure how to proceed. She couldn't advance any further—Zuko wasn't giving up his ground and she couldn't make herself go any closer to him.

"That's enough," Zuko repeated, still firm, but more quietly. Ty Lee felt something give inside her, like a crucial support beam crumbling. Her shoulders curled in. She felt like a wilting flower. _Aren't you? _some malevolent part of her mind murmured. _What good are you to anyone? You're broken, just like Azula was, but you can't even hold yourself together. _Tears blurred in her eyes. _You're worthless. _

_No, no, I'm not, please, I'm not worthless, I can be useful . . . _Tears burned in her eyes.

A new sound cut across the beach, a sound that pulled the other's attention from her instantly. Part of her recognized the sound too, a low rumble like the trains in Ba Sing Se rolling in.

"Appa?" Katara said, voice rising with excitement.

_Appa? _Ty Lee thought, trying to place the name. It occurred to her just as sand whipped around the beach, catching in her hair. _The flying bison._

A surge of hope nearly overtook her then. She whipped around, hair swinging in a short arc, finally long enough that she looked like a girl instead of a tomboy. Her chest eased up, and for the first time in too many weeks, she sucked in a deep breath that filled her lungs to the brim. Her eyes—still seeing, but not that strange, perceptive sight of a few moments ago—swept across the beach, searching for the face she wanted so badly to see.

And then she saw it—deep blue eyes framed in an angular face, a defined jaw that could switch from stoic to sarcastic in an instant, skin as rich and dark as cocoa—and knew Sokka had come back to her.


	42. The Outsider

_Author's Notes: _

_Just letting you all know that I am aware of FFN's sudden enforcement of their content policies, and I plan to continue writing exactly as I have, lemons included. Please know that all my stories are now backed up, and I plan to re-post them in the event FFN decides to remove them. I will not stand for this blatant disregard for our rights. _

_Anyway, school's out now, so I'll be able to update regularly, like a normal person. Hopefully I'll have this fic finished by July. Thanks for your patience, and I apologize for the brevity of this chapter._

* * *

><p>Chapter Forty-Two<p>

The world fell silent for a fraction of a second before everyone exploded into celebration.

Zuko had known their fractured party would reunite eventually. He'd thought he'd prepared himself for it, for the explanations, the distrust the Avatar likely held for him, for his companions' reactions as they reunited.

As he watched Katara crash into the Avatar, Zuko realized he was prepared for none of it.

"Aang, you're alive!" Katara shouted, embracing the twelve-year-old so tight, Zuko wondered how he could breathe. The airbender hugged her back just as tightly, a radiant smile spreading across his rounded cheeks.

Zuko bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Sokka!" Suki shouted, dropping her bowl and rushing toward the water tribe warrior so she could throw her arms around him.

Sokka caught her and spun her around once before letting her come to rest. "Suki, you got out of prison!"

Two warriors, both non-benders, finally getting to speak without the fear of compromising their lives. Zuko could only imagine what that must've felt like.

Hakoda extended his arms, palms out. "You're forgetting someone, Sokka." The sound of his voice ripped Sokka's attention from his girlfriend, and within seconds, he'd disentangled himself from Suki's arms and darted across the pale sand to greet his father.

A few feet away, still trembling after her outburst a few seconds ago, Ty Lee stood, staring at the spot where Sokka had been standing. Her gray eyes were a thousand miles away.

Toph grinned broadly, hands on her hips as she skidded across the sand and came to rest in front of the Avatar. "Figured you were still out there somewhere, Twinkletoes."

"Toph!" the Avatar said, still not letting go of Katara. Katara didn't seem inclined to release him, either.

_It doesn't mean anything, _Zuko told himself. _They're just friends. Of course Katara would be happy to see him. _His teeth buried themselves deeper in his lower lip, until he tasted iron against his tongue. If he and Katara hadn't gotten into that argument two nights ago, it wouldn't have bothered him. Or, at the very least, he would've been able to believe it when he told himself it was nothing more than friendship. But Zuko knew he'd hurt her. He hated himself for it, even if the subject of advanced bending techniques would've come up no matter who was here. It made sense for Katara to seek solace in an old friend, particularly one she'd once valued so much. So he forced himself to turn away, to allow Katara this moment of reunion, no matter how much it hurt him.

He felt eyes on the back of his neck, and decided to look in that direction instead. A boy of about fourteen stared back at him, his black eyes as sharp as obsidian. A bandage was coiled around his hand, and his dark brown hair was disheveled from the flight. Zuko didn't recognize him from his time tracking the Avatar, nor did any of the others seem interested in greeting him. The boy was an outsider.

_Just like me, _Zuko thought, watching the dark-haired boy climb down from Appa's saddle and give the bison an affectionate pat. Not noticing, Appa licked Katara, pulling her dark hair into disarray. She laughed and rested a hand on the bison's nose, keeping one arm around the Avatar's shoulders.

The dark-haired boy turned away from Appa and looked at Zuko. His eyes overflowed with something akin to distrust. Zuko tensed. _Does he recognize me? _he wondered. _Does he think I'm an enemy? _

Zuko straightened his shoulders and forced himself to look relaxed. With slow, deliberate steps, the boy approached, his gaze never wavering. When he was only a few feet away, he stopped and spoke. "You're Prince Zuko, aren't you?"

_The scar always gives me away, _he thought. "I am."

Something in his voice must've alerted the others, because the rejoicing died down a bit, faces turning solemn. The Avatar slipped out of Katara's embrace and took several steps forward, clutching what appeared to be a glider. Sokka kept close to Suki and his father, but turned toward them, his expression grim. _What's going on here?_ Zuko wondered, eyes flashing to every face in the group. He lingered on Katara's face for a moment, noting the confusion there.

It felt as if a wall of glass divided him from everyone else. They were the spectators, and he was the entertainment. Just like the Agni Kai with his father.

The brown-haired boy cocked his head to the side, studying him with an odd mix of fascination and displeasure.

"What?" Zuko demanded.

The emotion bled out of the boy's face. "I'm Zou, bastard son of a minor Fire Nation noble."

"And you think I'm a traitor." It was true, he supposed, but it didn't seem prudent to say so.

"No."

Zuko's eyes narrowed. "Then what?"

"I was told you've joined the fight against your father."

"Yes." He gritted his teeth, not liking Zou's tone one bit. "I intend to fight him."

Zou's eyes flitted to the Avatar. The airbender's eyes were tight, his expression pained, as if he was expecting something bad to happen. Zuko wondered if the young Avatar still intended to fight the Fire Lord, or if he'd get a chance to face his father himself.

_Either way, the outcome doesn't look good. He was a master when I was banished, he'll be even better now. And this time he won't just leave a scar. _He turned back to Zou, waiting for the boy to say something more. Abruptly, the fourteen-year-old's face evened out, his eyes going hard and empty as obsidian. He said only nine words, but those words rang out across the island like a call for battle.

"Prince Zuko, I challenge you to an Agni Kai."


	43. Accepted

Chapter Forty-Three

The prince stared at him for a minute, all emotion wiped clean from his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was somewhere between shock and outrage. "You _what_?"

Zou steeled himself. "I challenge you to an Agni Kai," he repeated, keeping all feeling out of his voice. He'd try the honorable way first. Then, if it came down to it, he'd kill the Fire Nation prince some other way.

"Hold on," someone said. Zou turned his head to see a dark-skinned girl stepping forward, hand extended as if to stop them. Her features were similar enough to Sokka's, and her age near enough, that he could only assume she was Sokka's sister. "Sozin's Comet is only a few days away. We can't afford to have anyone hurt right now."

_We can't afford to have royal blood remain in power, _Zou thought. "I'm sorry if this upsets you, but I have to do this."

"Why?" the prince demanded. "What did _I _ever do to you?"

"Zou," Aang interjected. "This isn't right. Why don't we all sit down and talk before—"

"I have to do this," Zou repeated, more forcefully.

Tension lined every face in the group; he forced himself not to feel it, forced himself only to think of the battle ahead. Risking his life for honor . . . It was the ultimate Fire Nation ideal. Even if he lost, his father would be forced to accept the nobility of his actions. _Even if I die, I'll die with honor._

"You don't understand," said Sokka's sister. "He's not a threat to you or any of us."

Zou searched his memory for a name, trying to remember the stories Sokka had told him while they'd been heading for the Eastern Air Temple. _Katara._ _That's her name._

Katara went on. "I know it's hard to believe, but Zuko is good. He's not a traitor and he's not a rogue. All he wants is to help us end this war."

"And all I want is to ensure the war doesn't flare up again after it's over." Zou stepped forward, looking back at the prince. The scarred firebender was looking at Katara, his expression caught between surprise and guilt. When the prince finally met Zou's gaze, his face turned grim.

"What are we fighting over?" Zuko asked calmly.

"The crown. If you lose, you swear to abandon all claim to the throne should they offer it to you. If you win, everything stays exactly the same." _For now. _

"Why would I risk my crown when I haven't even won it yet?"

"For honor," Zou snapped. The prince flinched, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. "You don't _have _to accept my challenge, but you're obligated to. If you don't, then I don't see much hope for you as a Fire Lord."

"That's not fair!" Katara yelled, striding forward. "You can't just waltz in here looking for a fight. We've all got the same goal. There's no reason—"

"I accept."

The words sliced through the waterbender's argument as effectively as a blade. Her eyes flashed to the prince's face, freezing when their eyes met. When they looked at each other, it was as if an entire conversation passed between them, free from the masking qualities of clumsy words or inarticulate descriptions. A perfect understanding.

Katara's eyes hardened, jaw flexing. Her shoulders sank back as she let out a breath. Rather than making any verbal statement, she gave a slight nod and stepped back, admitting defeat.

The prince turned back to him. "We'll duel at sundown. First, I have to speak with the Avatar."

The tension broke. Zou nodded, heart pounding erratically. He let out a breath and bowed. To his surprise, the prince bowed back, holding his hands Fire Nation style, like a flame.

_All I have to do now is win, _Zou thought. _And everything will be all right._

* * *

><p>Throughout the rest of the day, Katara shot worried glances in Zuko's direction, waiting for the opportunity to speak to him alone. And throughout the rest of the day, she never got the chance.<p>

First, Zuko spoke with Aang. Katara shuffled off to the side, refusing to get involved in a fight between her best friend and her . . . well, whatever Zuko was to her, exactly. It turned out her precautions were unnecessary; Aang smiled faintly at the prince. "Sokka told me what happened. I'm glad to have you on our side."

Katara glanced at Zuko, trying not to look guilty. Aang approved of the firebender's presence _now_, but even with Sokka's information, Aang didn't know half of what was going on. _How can I tell him about Zuko and I? _she wondered, heart contracting painfully. _It'll hurt him when he finds out, and he has to know eventually. And Zuko and I aren't really _together _right now . . . _She bit her lip. They'd argued, but did that demolish their connection, or did Zuko consider it a bump in their relationship? Either way, she doubted Zuko would take well to whatever definition she gave their relationship now. _Damn it, Zuko, I need to talk to you._

Zuko struggled for a response. "I . . . kind of figured you were dead," he finally said. "Azula doesn't show mercy."

A dark look crossed Aang's face, and for just a moment, he _looked _older than all his past lives combined. Katara shuddered. _No, _she thought. _Azula _doesn't _show mercy.__  
><em>

Aang smiled, regaining his usual cheer. "So, we can be friends, right? I mean, we used to be enemies, but now we're not, so . . ." He trailed off, uncertainty seeping into his voice.

"Uh . . . yeah. Sure. Actually, I kind of figured I'd be your firebending teacher. Before I thought you were dead, I mean."

"Oh. Well, Zou's already teaching me some stuff, but if you want to teach me, too, that'll be even better." His face brightened for a fraction of a second, then faded to the sad smile he'd worn before.

"Zuko will be able to teach you a lot," Katara interjected, throwing an apologetic look at the firebender. "Like redirecting lightning." _Like how to keep yourself alive when you face the Fire Lord. _

"You can _do _that?" Excitement again. "Man, that would've been nice to know before. Oh, but . . . right. Anyway."

_This is the most awkward meeting I've ever seen, _Katara thought, watching the two of them shift awkwardly in the sand. Eventually, Zuko cleared his throat and spoke again. "I guess we'll talk about it more after the duel."

"Yeah. Sounds good. I'm going to go talk to Toph." Aang backed up several paces, then turned, heading toward the part of the beach where the earthbender was busy taking care of Ty Lee. Oddly, the acrobat didn't seem flustered by Aang's appearance, despite her aversion to all the other males. _Too young to connect with her tormentors? _Katara wondered, a stab of pity shooting through her.

Trying to fight the images rising to her mind—the memory of Ty Lee's bloodstained gown, her emaciated hands and hollow eyes—Katara turned to Zuko. "I need to talk to you."

"I have to talk to Sokka. I still have his sword."

She flinched at his tone. "Zuko, please."

"After the duel," he said tersely. "I have to have a cool head. I don't know what kind of firebender Zou is, so I have to be careful."

Katara looked down. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll try to avoid it."

"I mean it," she snapped, her hand finding his arm. She lowered her voice. "I don't want you hurt. So, if there's any way to postpone this duel, please . . . Please do it. Maybe things will be different after the comet. Maybe Zou will realize you're not like you used to be."

Zuko let loose an exasperated sigh. "I'll be too busy after the comet. Besides, an Agni Kai isn't the kind of thing you just postpone. It's a sacred ritual."

"Zuko—"

He stepped back. "I have to go. We can talk later." He walked away, leaving her standing alone on the edge of the beach.

For a firebender, Zuko could be awfully cold.

Katara sighed and went over to where Aang and Toph were talking. Beside Toph, Ty Lee busied herself drawing circles in the sand with a stick. The end of the instrument was blackened, as if it had been left in the campfire to burn.

"And then Tazia gave me this glider and I flew to the Eastern Air Temple," Aang said, evidently recounting the tales of his journey. When Katara approached, he looked over and grinned. "Hey, Katara. I thought you were still talking to Zuko."

"No." _Not anymore. _"How have you been?"

"Oh, you know. I missed you a lot." His gray eyes focused on her face, twinkling with the same look of longing Zuko had favored her with before their argument.

Katara swallowed back the lump rising in her throat. "I missed you, too."

The look of yearning intensified, and Katara instantly regretted her words. She'd missed him terribly, of course, but the hope that flared in those gray eyes burned her worse than any flame.

The thought of flames brought back thoughts of Zuko, and for a moment, Katara said nothing, too lost in guilt to speak.

But Aang seemed to expect nothing more from her, so when he showed her his new, golden-winged glider, she smiled and pretended all was right in their world, that things could go on as they had and no one would be hurt.

The sun set far too soon.


	44. Agni Kai

Chapter Forty-Four

Sunset.

Zuko faced away from his opponent, breathing slowly to stir the hot embers inside him. His chest was bare, as was typical for an Agni Kai. A faint breeze stirred the palm leaves of the island.

Toph had flattened a section of beach and smoothed it out for the fight. _That eliminates one variable, _he thought. _But if I fall, I'm hitting solid stone instead of sand. _

The sunset streaked the sky with crimson, so it looked almost as if the clouds were bleeding.

He could feel Katara's eyes on his face, but he didn't allow himself to look up. This was about honor. Every Agni Kai was about honor, in some form or another. Absolving dishonor or defending one's honor—an Agni Kai was a reliable way to do both.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Katara asked, her voice unusually timid.

"I have to."

She hesitated, fidgeting with her sleeve. "I was just wondering . . . Never mind."

He looked up. Calm. Serene. "What?"

"Just . . . Zuko, are we okay? I'm sorry about before."

He shook his head. "We're fine. This isn't about that." He looked up to see if she believed him; she wouldn't meet his eyes.

He reached out, brushing her hair away from her face and laying his hand on her cheek. "Don't worry about it, okay? We can talk about it tonight."

Her cheek warmed against his palm. Her blue eyes flashed up to meet his. "Okay."

His hand dropped to his side. Katara hurried to the sidelines, where the others were waiting. Zuko's eyes followed her, then froze on the Avatar's face. Aang's gray eyes were wide, their surfaces shiny. He was holding his glider in front of his body, like a shield.

Zuko didn't miss the look of yearning on the boy's face when he looked at Katara.

_Don't think about it, _he told himself. _That's all for later. You have an Agni Kai to worry about. _He rose to his feet and signaled to Sokka, who was refereeing the match since he was the most neutral of their party. The water tribe warrior nodded solemnly.

_I'll have to tell Sokka about my relationship with Katara. After I talk to her._

Sokka turned to the other side of the arena, likely looking at Zou. He must've gotten some signal of confirmation, because he started speaking. "All right. We're not fighting to the death here, so no fatal shots. Other than that, you know the rules. Everyone ready . . ." Here, he hesitated, as if hoping for some objection, or a way to postpone the fight. He received neither. "Fight!"

Zuko turned, heel pivoting on the compressed sand, and took a firebending stance. Across the arena, his opponent did the same. At once, Zuko detected half a dozen faults in the younger boy's stance, tiny imperfections that made the difference between an amateur and a master. _What does he think he's _doing_, challenging me?_

Zou stepped forward, launching a fireball in his direction. Zuko moved his arms to block. Heat kissed his knuckles as he deflected the fireball.

The boy changed tactics, spinning rapidly to produce an arc of fire from his foot. This time, Zuko threw himself to the ground, the impact rattling the bones in his elbow. Staying low, he swept his leg out, shooting a stream of fire from his heel. Through the rising embers, he saw the younger boy freeze, eyes widening. _Is that all it takes? _Zuko wondered, staying crouched where he was.

At the last second, Zou seemed to come back to himself. With surprising agility, the firebender sprang into the air, body coiling and flipping once. His knee hit the ground first, with a sound that made Zuko grit his teeth.

The boy ignored the hit, shooting to his feet and unleashing two more fireballs. Zuko rolled, evading the worst of the burns. His fist shot forward and sent an orange stream toward Zou. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a product of the intense heat and exertion.

Zou was quick—Zuko had to give him that much. The dark-haired boy sprinted across the width of the arena, hesitating only when he reached the edge of the platform. He whirled around, creating a wall of fire around himself to stave off the worst of Zuko's attack.

_Long-range attacks won't work, _Zuko thought, watching the burning barrier as it rose above Zou's head. _I'll have to get in closer. _

Abandoning his previous attack, Zuko darted toward his opponent. The fiery barrier remained, obscuring the other boy's movements so that, when he attacked, Zuko had only a split second of warning. Four fireballs shot out from behind the barrier in quick succession, forcing him to stop and disperse them before he continued on.

_He's determined, _Zuko thought, throwing a fireball of his own toward the barrier in the hopes that it would disrupt the other boy's focus. The wall of fire ballooned out, rupturing like the side of a volcano. Embers flew everywhere, bright against the bleeding sky. Behind them, Zou took another fighting stance. His knee was trembling where it had struck the ground, and his hair clung to his skin by the sheen of sweat. _He's getting tired. He won't be able to make many more big moves. _

Zuko took advantage of his opponent's exhaustion, his fists snaking out to produce a series of small fireballs. Rather than trying to bring his shield up, Zou deflected each of the attacks one-by-one. Sensing fatigue in the firebender's movements, Zuko kept shooting. With every block, Zou's arms became more sluggish, his knees shakier. Finally, the boy threw himself to the ground and unleashed a kick that sent a pulse of heat in Zuko's direction.

"What's the matter?" Zuko taunted. "No fire left?"

Zou hissed, wisps of fire flying through his teeth. His black eyes reflected the floating embers between them.

There was something in those eyes, something as dark and jagged as obsidian. Not like fire, as might've been expected from a firebender, but like ice so cold it burned.

Hatred. Deep, ice-cold hatred for him, perhaps for the Fire Nation in general. It pained Zuko more than he wanted to admit. _The Fire Nation needs to heal, too, _he thought. _This war has ravaged everyone. _

"You don't have to fight me," Zuko called, watching the boy get to his feet again. Zou's hands were shaking now, too.

"I'm not giving up."

"What do you have to gain from this fight?" Zuko demanded. "What purpose does it serve? If you want your honor, you have it. You've held out long enough—no one would criticize you for surrendering before you get seriously injured." _Except for my father, _Zuko added mentally. But saying so wouldn't help his case.

"I have to defeat you. I can't allow you to take the throne."

"Why not?"

"Because!" Zou yelled, voice hoarse as he tried to catch his breath. His shoulders were limp, leaving his arms to dangle at his side. One solid strike, too fast for the boy to defend against . . . That was all it would take.

"Because _why_?"

"Because you know nothing of this war! What have _you _lost, except your precious _honor_? You presume to rule when all you fight for is an intangible ideal? If you haven't suffered, haven't starved or bled or been beaten down like the rest of your people, how can you presume to take the throne?"

Zuko recognized the look of a wounded animal. It was something he'd seen too many times since he'd been banished. So when he spoke again, his voice was quiet. "I won't pretend I've suffered more than anyone else, but I don't think you understand what's at stake here. I have no intention of letting this war continue when I'm Fire Lord. I want to rebuild everything that's burned because of it. I want to look my father in the eye and tell him he was wrong not to stop it. But I can't do any of that until I'm crowned, and that's why I have to win this fight. So surrender before I have to hurt you."

Zou's hands curled into fists, and he strode forward, indignation evident in every twitch of his muscles. Fire flared around his knuckles, building there. "I will never bow to you."

_Then don't, _Zuko thought, raising his hands to defend against whatever the other boy was trying to do. "Fine," he said. _Don't blame me if this ends badly. _

Zou lurched toward him, favoring his injured leg. Zuko lunged forward, feeling the heat rise to his fingertips. Zou's fist shot forward; Zuko sidestepped the blow and caught the boy's arm, jabbing his thumb into the pressure point at Zou's wrist. The boy tried to wriggle free of his grip. When he couldn't escape, he spun and threw a kick toward Zuko's temple.

It was close. Entangled as he was, he barely managed to avoid the worst of the impact. The boy's foot still grazed his forehead, stirring the hair hanging near it.

The attack left Zou, momentarily, unable to defend himself. Zuko saw the opening and moved forward, snatching the boy's ankle and throwing him backwards. Zou crashed onto the arena floor, gasping in pain.

Fire flickered above Zuko's palm. He followed his opponent to the ground, pinning him where he lay. Zou's eyes flashed to the fire in his hand, reflecting the orange light. Fear replaced the icy hatred of a moment ago.

Zou closed his eyes and went limp, as if resigned to death. Zuko let the flame in his hands gutter out and stepped back. "Do you surrender?" he asked. Zou's eyes flashed open, shock writ bold across his face. Zuko sighed. "You can't win this fight. You must realize that by now. Do you surrender?"

The life seemed to fade from the boy's eyes. He looked away. When he spoke, his voice was almost inaudible. "I surrender."

"Good." Zuko held out a hand. "Get up."

Zou stared at the offered hand, as if it had confused him somehow. His eyes remained glassy, sightless. Fingers trembling, he reached forward.

Zuko pulled the boy to his feet, then released his hand. "I know it's hard to accept that I'll be taking my father's place, but I promise you, I will end this war. No one will have to suffer anymore."

Zou shook his head. "People will always suffer, and leaders will always abuse their power. That's how the world works."

The Avatar stepped onto the arena, followed quickly by the others. Katara gave him a relieved smile when he looked at her.

Aang turned to Zou. "Someone needs to take charge of the Fire Nation after the war's over. I think you're wrong about Zuko. He can do it."

The black-eyed boy looked away, retreating within himself.

"You're hurt," Katara said, pulling Zuko's attention from his defeated opponent. Her soft fingers found his elbow, holding it delicately. As the adrenaline faded from his system, he started to feel the pain.

"I hit the ground pretty hard, I guess."

"I can heal it, if you want." Katara looked up at him, her eyes hopeful.

"I . . ." _Say something, _he told himself. "I'd like that."

She took his hand and led him to the edge of the beach, where the waves lapped up at the shore. Zuko sat down just before the sand had turned dark from the incoming waves, expecting Katara to bend the water from the ocean over his elbow and heal it that way. Instead, she knelt down beside him and cradled his injured arm in her hands. "Tell me if this hurts too much," she said, moving one hand over his swollen joint. Zuko felt a sudden tug, his arm jerking upward; his eyes flew to Katara's. "Sorry. Need some practice, I guess."

"Are you . . ." He hesitated, uncertain.

"Bloodbending? Yes." Her fingers traced the line of his elbow. Warmth shot through his skin wherever she touched it, sinking deeper into his flesh and driving the pain away. The odd pressure subsided along with the pain, and Katara withdrew her hand, sighing. "I was wrong," she said simply. "You were right. If you have to learn to generate lightning, I should have to learn this, too. Even if it's dangerous. I just . . . It seems wrong somehow. Being able to reach inside a person and control them, even if it's just to heal. It makes me feel like . . ." She shook her head. "I don't know."

He reached forward and took her hand. "I know you'll only use it for the right reasons. Even the parts that don't involve healing."

Her head snapped up, color blooming over her cheeks. Her face softened as her fingers curled tighter around his. "So you're not mad? About our argument?"

He shook his head. "I don't think I could stay mad at you for long. You're . . . kind. It's hard not to love you."

Her blush deepened, her eyes sliding over to her friends. "Are we still together, then?"

He blinked in surprise. "Of course. What made you think we weren't?"

"I just . . ." She shook her head, smiling softly. "Never mind. It was just me being silly, I guess." She leaned in and planted a kiss on his cheek. She started back toward the others. "Come on. We've got plans to make." She extended a hand toward him, palm up.

He took her hand and stood. He didn't let go until they reached camp.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Well, this is one of the longest chapters I've written for this fic._

_Anyway, you may have noticed Katara's bloodbending ability doesn't follow the moon, as it did in the series. I figured Katara believed bloodbending was possible only on the full moon because Hama told her so, and since Katara discovered the technique without Hama in this fic, she wouldn't automatically assume a full moon was required to use it. The most recent episode of _Legend of Korra _states that bloodbending at any other time besides the full moon is actually a relatively new advancement, but since this is an AU, I'm going to stick with what I've written already, and allow Katara to bloodbend at any time._

_Thanks as always for reading and reviewing._


	45. Brutal Mercy

Chapter Forty-Five

The cloth muffled her screams, but they still echoed down the corridors.

"Agni, shut her up," one of the guards muttered.

"Some _gift _this turned out to be."

Liang Chi whimpered at the reminder of her new status. Minutes had passed since Azula had ordered the guards to take her away, but the minutes had seemed to stretch for hours as they'd dragged her to the room. Her knees were raw, her wrists abraded from her frantic attempts to break free of the Dai-Li's rock fists. A dull ache had formed in her throat, partly from her muffled screams, partly from her sobs. And in minutes, none of it would matter, because she'd been handed over to these guards like a raw piece of steak to a pack of armadillo wolves.

"Might as well make use of it while we can," said one of the guards that had dragged her in. Liang Chi shot him a venomous glance. _I hope you die from a spidersnake bite, _she thought, growling like an animal through her gag.

"What the hell's the matter with you? She's _twelve_."

Liang Chi tilted her head back to look at her savior. Even upside-down, she recognized him. Smooth, black hair. Brown eyes. Not exceptionally handsome, but far from hideous. She passed him every day on her way to the laundry room, because his circuit intercepted hers.

He had never said a word to her, not even to exchange the briefest of greetings, or impart a word of caution when situations were tense, but recognition shone in his dark eyes when he looked at her.

"What's wrong with _me_?" the other guard asked, mustache twitching as he smirked. "You're passing up a girl this fresh, and you think there's something wrong with _me_?"

Her savior—_I wish I knew your name, _she thought—rose from his bunk, eyes as hard as granite. "_You_," he began, drawing in a breath before going on. "are a perverted, lecherous asshole with a taste for twelve-year-old girls. That's what's wrong with _you_."

"The new Fire Lord gave her to us as a gift. If you won't enjoy her, I will."

_Savage, _she thought. She kept silent, knowing her words were meaningless when mangled by the gag. Besides, she didn't especially want to remind them of her proximity. Any delay from her punishment was a reprieve, and, potentially, a way out. Moving with the speed of a zebra-snail, she sat up and scraped her thumbnails over the rock fists restraining her arms. She had to be careful. Even if she suffered while she worked, even if her savior couldn't keep his peers at bay, she would not be used as an example. Not for Azula. Not for a traitor and a murderer.

"You keep your hands off her."

"You going to stop me, little boy?"

Liang Chi chipped away at the center of the bindings. Tiny flakes of rock came loose under her thumbnails, almost like sand. The Dai-Li had superb control over their element, but evidently, they'd sacrificed durability for versatility and malleability in their weapons.

Her knight in shining armor advanced on the mustached man until their faces were inches apart. "I swore an oath when I joined the Royal Guard," he spat. "In that oath, I swore to always do the honorable thing, at any cost. I will not stand by while you rape a little girl."

A few more flakes sprinkled down from her restraints. Liang Chi could feel a groove forming in the stone where her nails were biting in, but it would take several minutes more to break free. _It's not enough time, _she thought, a spasm shooting through her arm as she dug at the stone. One of the guard's eyes flickered to her, and she froze, heart hopping into her throat. _No, don't look at me. Forget I'm here. Forget I exist. _Her fingers went still, and she focused on a spot on the floor, praying she would look inattentive and lose the guard's attention. A moment later, his eyes slid back to the escalating confrontation.

She went back to work, scanning the room for escape routes. With her arms bound, it would be an awkward escape, no matter what. Her options were limited. She could probably manipulate the door without her hands, but it would cost her precious seconds, and in those seconds, she would be caught and pinned. The windows, both sitting just above the top bunks, would require her having enough limbs free to climb that high. _I won't be fast enough, _she realized, looking down at the ground. _Maybe if this room wasn't swarming with soldiers, or if none of them were armed, I could . . ._

But they _were _armed. Even the firebenders, who should have had no need for weapons except during an eclipse, each carried a knife at their belt. Even if, by some miracle, she scrambled to the window without getting dragged back down, she'd find a blade in her back as soon as she hit the grass on the other side. _Windows won't work, _she thought, eyes flitting back to the door.

The mustached guard snorted. "Rape? Azula practically _ordered _us to do it. I think treason is a little higher on the list of unforgivable crimes, don't you?"

Her savior's hand shot forward, connecting with the other man's nose. Blood spurted out of his nostrils, staining his mustache. He lifted a hand to his face to stem the flow of blood, eyes wide. "You hit me!"

"I'll hit you again, you sick bastard!"

_Just a little longer, _Liang Chi thought, scraping away at the restraints. Every few passes, her nails scratched the inside of her wrist. Another minute or so—that was all it would take. Then, at least, she'd have her hands free.

_But to do what? _she wondered, heart contracting painfully in her chest. There were half a dozen guards between her and the door, and she'd already ruled the windows out as an escape route. Like as not, the fall would knock her out, or break a bone. Either one would intensify or prolong her suffering. _I'm trapped, _she thought. A chunk of stone the size of a marble broke off her restraints, a measure of her futile progress.

Her savior pinned the other guard to the wall, their faces inches apart. The cruel man spat, shooting blood and saliva into her knight's face. He retaliated with a kick to the groin, only to have his attack blocked by the man's quick block. All the while, they hissed and snarled at each other like a pair of raccoon-dogs.

Under her fingertips, the link holding her restraints together broke apart. Her arms exploded outward, hands free at last. All the nearby guards looked over at her sudden movement, but none rose from their spots. Adrenaline pounded through her veins, making everything move in slow motion.

_I am not Azula's example, _she thought, shooting to her feet with a renewed burst of strength. Tears burned in her eyes as she ripped the gag out of her mouth. Her hands snaked out, reaching, reaching . . .

_I am not some guard's whore. _Still reaching, and not grasping anything, but her hands were _free_, and even though she was far from safe, she _felt _free, like she could take on the whole world and all its threats without even stopping to rest. Her eyes caught on a flash of silver—the sunlight from the window glinting off the blade of a knife. The weapon had been laid out on a table, along with some cotton cloths and alcohol. Someone had been cleaning it before she'd been brought here.

_I am not a toy to be abused and abandoned. _Her fingers danced along the handle, clamping down over the smooth hilt. From the corner of her eye, she saw several guards rising from their perches, finally registering her escape attempt. On her other side, her savior's head whipped around, perhaps drawn by the movement, or perhaps by some intuitive knowledge that the atmosphere had changed. His jaw went slack, eyes wide.

_I am not anyone's prisoner. _She turned the knife around so the blade rested just over her heart. Her savior seemed to grasp her intentions. His hand snaked out, the words tumbling out of his mouth so fast, they were almost nonsensical. "No, don't!"

"Thank you," she whispered. _Thank you for giving me time to act. Thank you for having honor when your comrades didn't. Thank you for the mercy you've given me today._

The knife slid into her heart. It was the sweetest pain Liang Chi had ever known.


	46. Confession

Chapter Forty-Six

"Sokka, we need to talk."

Sokka glanced up from Suki's face for the first time since she'd started talking about her escape from the Boiling Rock. Above him stood Zuko, casting a shadow across the moon-bleached sand. His eyes were tranquil, but serious.

With an apologetic glance in Suki's direction, Sokka disentangled himself from her arms and rose to face the firebender. "What is it?"

"Come with me."

The request made him tense, but he followed. Zuko led him away from the main camp, glancing over his shoulder every few steps as if expecting to be stopped. His obvious anxiety left the air thick with tension. "You're not taking me out here to burn me to bits, are you?" Sokka asked, breaking the oppressive silence.

Zuko threw him an annoyed glance. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

He shrugged. "Hey, I haven't seen you in weeks. Anything could've changed." _You were only with Katara for a couple weeks before you joined our team._

Zuko stepped over an exposed root, then paused by one of the larger trees. He turned, the moonlight catching on the contours of his scar and throwing them into relief so they looked much more prominent than normal. "Okay, first thing's first. Here." Zuko picked something up from ground and handed it to him. Even in the relative darkness, Sokka recognized the sleek wooden sheath, and the hilt sticking out of it. Stunned, he pulled the blade free. The steel was as black as a starless sky.

A broad grin split his face. "My Space Sword! You kept it?"

"Toph found it in the prison repository when they broke me out. I figured you'd want it back."

Sokka lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the firebender's shoulders, still grinning. "Why didn't you tell me when we landed? This is great!"

Zuko shifted uncomfortably. Belatedly, Sokka realized the exiled prince wasn't fond of being touched. "I've been a little busy," Zuko murmured. "Anyway, that's not all I wanted to talk to you about."

Sokka noted the severity in his voice and sheathed his sword, bracing himself for news of an oncoming attack or a rescue mission. "What is it?"

"Well . . ." Zuko hesitated, shifting his weight to his opposite foot and running a hand through his hair. "I don't think you want to hear this, but there's really no way to keep it from you. I don't want to wait until we're in danger for you to find out, so . . ."

"_Are _we in danger? Do you know something you're not telling the others?"

"Um . . . No, that's not . . ." Zuko paused, inhaling deeply, then closing his eyes as he breathed out. The action seemed to calm him, and he spoke. "I'm in love with Katara."

The words hit him like a boomerang to the face. "You're in love—"

Zuko held up his hands, palms out. "Let me explain."

"—with my _sister_?"

"Calm down."

Sokka spluttered. "Calm—How can I calm down? My _sister_! You . . ." He drew in a ragged breath, hand twitching toward the weapon at his hip. The only thing holding him back was his natural caution. It was unwise to just jump into a situation without knowing as much as possible about it. "Hold on, does Katara _know _about this?"

Zuko looked down. "Yeah. She does."

Sokka let out a breath. _Okay. It's not that bad. _He rested a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Hey, man, I'm sorry. She can be a little sharp with people when she's startled, so whatever she said—"

"Sokka."

"—I'm sure she didn't mean it. Or she did, but she meant to say it in a nicer way."

"Sokka."

"Seriously, don't take it to heart. You'll fall in love with someone else one day, and she'll love you back."

Zuko made an exasperated gesture. "Give me some credit, would you? She loves me back."

Sokka blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His response was more of a squeak than a word. "Huh?"

Zuko's face softened; he let out a breath. "Katara and I are . . . together. In a relationship. You have a right to know, so there it is."

"You're dating my _sister_?"

"Well, technically we haven't gone on any _dates_ . . ."

His shock had finally abated enough for him to grasp the ramifications of Zuko's confession. _If they survive the war and Zuko takes the throne, Katara will be Fire Lady. She'll be stuck in the palace for the rest of her life, living with _him_. She won't be coming back to the South Pole. Her kids could be firebenders. _Sokka forced himself to take a deep breath, to remind himself that not all firebenders were evil, that Zuko was basically a good guy, aside from months of trying to track down Aang and deliver him to the current Fire Lord. And actually, Katara marrying a firebender wasn't the issue. It was the dizzying shift from what he'd imagined her future to be like that left him reeling. He'd expected her to find someone in one of the water tribes or, barring that, someone from the Earth Kingdom.

_Calm down, _he told himself. _It's not like she's engaged or anything. Even Yue wasn't engaged at fifteen._ "You two . . . How serious is this?"

Zuko's body went rigid, and Sokka could see the faint flush that bloomed in the firebender's cheeks. "Well, nothing's set in stone, and the whole thing kind of hinges on when the war ends, but we . . . we've talked about . . . We might possibly be getting married after the war's over. Maybe. Not right away."

For a long moment, Sokka just stared at him, too caught up in how he thought he _should _react to actually do anything. _Oh, spirits, they _are _engaged._

His big brother instinct commanded him to react, to demand a more detailed explanation of just _what _had happened for them to come to this decision. The more logical side of him couldn't help but identify the positives of the arrangement: a royal marriage would seal whatever peace treaties written to end the war; a luxurious life for Katara and, possibly, the rest of their family; a husband who had fought alongside her and understood how powerful she was; and, more than anything, the fact that Katara could have all of that and still marry for love.

The conflicting emotions warred inside him, pulling him in two mutually exclusive directions. Sokka couldn't decide if he wanted to kill Zuko or if he should welcome the firebender to the family.

Finally, he collapsed where he stood and reclined against a tree. "Might've been a better idea to give me my sword _after _I'd calmed down," he murmured. Since Zuko didn't laugh, Sokka allowed himself a snort of amusement. "So what now?"

"You mean you're okay with this?"

"Katara will do whatever she wants." _Just like she's been doing for the past fifteen years. _"It's not like I have any say in it. Does my dad know?"

"No," Zuko said, flinching as if he'd been punched in the gut. "Actually, you were sort of my practice run. I was going to tell him after this."

"You might want to be a little more subtle. Or have Katara tell him. Yeah. That would be better."

To his surprise, the firebender just nodded. "Thanks."

Sokka sat up. "Hey, you want to spar? I want to make sure I haven't forgotten everything Master Piandao taught me."

Zuko blanched, stepping back. "Um, actually, I have to, uh, go help with the . . . thing, so . . . I'm just going to go now." He slipped away into the trees, heading in the opposite direction of the main camp.

Sokka grinned, standing up and heading toward the campfire. If he was lucky, there would be fish left over from dinner tonight.

As he reached camp, his eyes scanned the area for Suki. His trip with Zuko had interrupted her tale of her escape from the Boiling Rock, and he wanted to hear the rest of the story. Panic shot through him when he saw Suki and Ty Lee sitting by each other, heads close together with the intensity of their conversation. Memories of the brief kiss he'd shared with Ty Lee before they'd been separated flashed through his mind. His throat tightened, his saliva thickening until it choked him.

It had been a mistake, a _stupid,_ irresponsible mistake to kiss Ty Lee, and he knew now that he never should've done it.

Now his betrayal was even worse because, even though Suki and Ty Lee had had weeks to talk about it in his absence, he was suddenly sure Suki hadn't heard about his impulsive kiss. And now the two of them were talking, and he was within striking range and—

Suki's voice pierced his eardrums like an ice pick. "Sokka, come over here. We have something we need to talk to you about."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Many of you may already be aware, but recently, fanfiction . net has started deleting stories with explicit sexual content, extreme violence, song lyrics, and anything else they deem to be breaking site rules. To protest, many people will be logging out of their accounts and abandoning FFN for one day to show the site administrators how much they rely on writers and readers like us. I highly encourage you to take part in this protest by staying off FFN on June 23__rd__. That means no reading, no reviewing, and no posting chapters/stories. No use of the site at all for 24 hours. If enough people participate in this silent protest, FFN will have to acknowledge our dissatisfaction, and we will be one step closer to having unreserved freedom of press. I will be participating as well, so please, take this opportunity to stand for our right to write. Thank you. _


	47. Don't Make Mistakes

Chapter Forty-Seven

Ty Lee watched Sokka's body go rigid. "W-what do we need to talk about?" he asked, his voice jumping up an octave with panic.

Suki cocked her head to the side. "You seem a little jumpy. Is everything all right?"

Sokka's voice rose to a squeak. "Fine. Everything's fine." He skittered over to them, plopping down on the ground and scattering particles of sand everywhere. He smiled, exposing two rows of straight, white teeth, but Ty Lee could see the tension in his neck. His fingers curled and uncurled, crushing sand together in clumps. "So what's going on?"

Suki spoke for her. "Ty Lee and I were just wondering if you had any plans to strike the Fire Nation before the comet."

The question seemed to throw him for a moment. _Of course, _Ty Lee thought, eyes drifting down to look at her feet. _The dreaded "we need to talk" speech turns out to be about battle plans. _

Sokka stumbled through a reply. "Um . . . Well, I had some ideas. The, um . . . Oh!" He made a sharp gesture, face lighting up. "The Fire Nation airships."

Suki glanced back at her. Ty Lee tensed, bowing her head. "The Fire Nation doesn't have airships," Suki said.

"They do now. Zou told me about them on our way to find Aang. They're supposed to be as long as the drill that attacked Ba Sing Se, but they fly on a similar principle as a war balloon."

Ty Lee knew she'd essentially abandoned the Fire Nation when she'd left Azula behind—and that the Fire Nation had abandoned her, when she'd been tossed in a cell to die—but it was strange to realize how much she'd missed in the short time since she'd defected from her country. _A war machine of that magnitude would've been big news. The Fire Nation would see them as a symbol of hope. They'd see it as an assurance for a victory. _Her eyebrows slanted down.

Sokka went on. "Based on the numbers Zou gave me, there are a little over two dozen airships. Most likely, they'll be positioned to attack the Earth Kingdom during Sozin's comet, and staffed with firebenders to burn as much as possible to the ground while they can. Aang will be busy fighting the Fire Lord, if he hasn't by the time the comet comes around." Sokka frowned. Ty Lee watched his expression shift from excited calculation to unease. Did he think Aang would delay the confrontation that long?

_He couldn't. That would give Ozai another advantage, and he already has too many. _"But Aang is going to fight the Fire Lord before that, right?" she asked, eyebrows coming together.

Suki's head whipped around fast enough to make Ty Lee flinch. The look on the warrior's face said more than any exclamation of surprise. Sokka tensed in response, glancing between them.

_No, _she thought, her mind jumping back to _that _place. _No, I shouldn't have spoken. I'm sorry, please don't hurt me, I won't talk again, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry . . . _

"Um . . . Is everything okay?"

Sokka's voice pulled her out of her memory. _He doesn't know, _she thought, lifting her eyes to his face. _He hasn't realized. He doesn't know how broken I am._ The thought stirred something in her, and her breathing increased in tempo. If Sokka didn't know . . . _He thinks I'm still normal. He didn't ignore me because he thought I was broken, he ignored me because he didn't want to hurt Suki's feelings._

Ty Lee felt lighter, as if she'd landed on a cloud and was drifting high above the world. No, like she was _flying_. An idea occurred to her then, breaking through her lips before she had time to think it through. "I want to fly on Appa."

When no one responded, she grew desperate. It felt as if a fire had started in her lungs, and if she didn't douse it, it would burn out of control and eat away at her. "Will you take me, Sokka? I've seen you fly, I know you can. Please, _please_, can I go for a ride on Appa with you?"

His stormy eyes, more gray than blue in the darkness, flickered to Suki's face. The Kyoshi warrior took no notice of him, instead continuing to stare at Ty Lee as if she'd suggested they invite the Fire Lord himself to a tea-party-slash-peace-talk-slash-slumber-party. Ty Lee pretended not to notice the warrior's stare, pretended not to feel the eyes on her face—_eyes all over me, like they're looking at cuts of meat, why me, this isn't fair, it hurts, why did you do this to me, Azula?_—but paranoia crept up on her anyway, and she found her gaze flitting away from Sokka's face and to Suki's.

After a moment, Suki stood up, directing her attention at Sokka. "It sounds like a good idea to me. You two have fun."

Sokka hesitated. "Um . . . Yeah. Okay." He jumped to his feet, grinning broadly. "We can go now."

Ty Lee had faked her way through enough human interaction to spot a false smile. In a way, it was endearing—Sokka trying to act normal for her when she was clearly the damaged party. But it also hurt, as if the smile was a serrated knife sawing into her chest, trying to wrench her heart from her body.

"I have to check with Aang, make sure it's okay for me to take Appa," he added, edging toward the main part of the camp, where the others were.

Suki had slipped away unseen.

"Sure," Ty Lee said, trying to keep her voice light. Trying not to break down where she stood.

Sokka rushed over to the main campfire. Ty Lee watched him go, a pit forming in her stomach as he left her side. _This isn't right, _she thought. _I can't be with someone like him, not anymore. Maybe before, I could have . . . _She shook off the thought. _Before_, she had been a loyal servant to Azula, a cheerful acrobat with a taste for cute guys.

Before, she had been nothing more than a tool for her nation and her supposed friend.

_No more, _she thought, heading toward the flying bison. Appa lifted his head as she approached, snorting loudly and blowing a puff of air at her. She jumped backwards, her feet dancing lightly over the sand. Her body felt lighter than it had in weeks, as if one gust of wind could knock her down. It was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

She was going to be alone with Sokka for the first time since Azula had captured them.

* * *

><p>Azula paced as her guards hung their heads in shame. "Do you even understand your job? You're called <em>guards<em> for a reason. You were supposed to _guard_ the captive until arrangements could be made for her execution."

"Permission to speak, my Lady," one of them said, bowing deeply.

She opened her mouth to refuse him, then closed it. If she ignored the beatings and the lack of regard for her significance, her father had actually taught her a great deal about leadership. Listen to your subjects, even if you had no intention of yielding to them. Don't yield to your subjects' demands. If you must yield to their demands, do so in a way that makes it seem like the change was your idea.

_And post guards outside your bedroom door if you don't want your offspring to stab you in the heart, _she added mentally. "You may speak."

The man rose. Dry blood clung to his face, just under his crooked nose, which seemed to indicate that treasonous little servant had at least gotten a good shot in before she'd put a knife in her chest. "My Lady, we had every intention of fulfilling your orders. All except one of us." He threw a glance at the man beside him, earning a glare in return. "This man claimed it was dishonorable to take part in the gift, after you so graciously offered her to us."

Her annoyance flared. "Were my orders not to keep the girl alive until I could find a fitting punishment?"

This seemed to fluster the bleeding man. "Well . . . Yes, my Lady, those were your orders. The girl got free of her restraints somehow. I suspect treason or, at the very least, shoddy security. But—"

"Shoddy security? So that's the reason I woke up this morning to hear that someone had jammed a knife in my father's heart?"

Sweat dripped down the man's forehead. "I did not mean . . . Forgive me, my Lady. The girl didn't act as expected."

"You didn't expect her to rebel, or you didn't expect her to reach for the weapon laid out for her convenience?"

The man said nothing. Azula turned away, showing her back to them. _I am not afraid, _she thought. _Let them try to betray me. If they're too incompetent to keep one prisoner from arming themselves, they're too incompetent to kill me. _

A new voice chimed in. "Permission to speak, my Lady."

She turned to the man the first guard had singled out. The corners of her lips tilted up in amusement. _This ought to be interesting. Perhaps I'll have a new traitor to execute. _"Permission granted."

"My Lady, I know I have no right to criticize your orders, but I cannot condone the punishment you tried to force on this girl." He gestured sharply to the lump in the corner. Liang Chi had been covered before Azula had entered, but the servant's blood had seeped through the white sheet and was slowly pooling on the floor. "As a member of the Royal Guard, I will defend my choice to oppose your orders. Allowing my supposed comrades to rape a little girl would strip away the honor I have gained by attaining this rank, as well as stain the name of the Royal Guard. I apologize for my disobedience."

Azula smiled. Watching them throw themselves at her feet for a chance at being pardoned was rather like watching a dog beg for scraps at the royal table. "That's all well and good—"

"I'm not finished," he said, his voice sharper. Azula blinked rapidly, her amusement turning to annoyance at being interrupted. "Fire Lord Ozai asked me to do a great many things, some of which I may regret until I'm in my grave, but he never asked me to rape or torture a little girl. If that is what _you _would have of me, then I'm afraid I will not be able to stay in your service a moment longer." He unsheathed his sword. The other guards stirred, some of them reaching for their weapons, others taking firebending stances.

"You can't just _leave_," Azula snapped. "I am the _Fire Lord _now. I rule this nation."

The man bent down, setting his sword at his feet, and took two steps toward her. Furious, she held her ground. _Strike me, _she dared him. _Strike me, so I have a reason to execute _you _in the girl's stead. _

But he didn't strike her; he spoke. "You may be Fire Lord now, but you will never be a leader. At least your father had enough sense to run a country. You don't have enough sense to run your palace."

Fury shot through her veins. _So we're trading insults instead of blows. _"Well, I hope sparing that servant left you enough honor for this." She turned to the others. "Arrest this worthless fool and take him some place where I'll never have to look at him again."

Feet shuffled. Some of the guards started to move, then stopped when they realized the rest of them were standing rigid.

"What are you waiting for?" Azula demanded. "I said _arrest him_."

"I resign!" one of the guards shouted, throwing down his sword. It _clanged _against the floor, loud enough to startle some of the others. "I agree with _him_," the man said, jerking his chin toward the one he was supposed to arrest.

There was an uneasy murmur from the rest of them. Another man stepped forward, his face withered by age. "I resign as well. Take my sword. Take my life. I am not afraid of you."

_You should be, _she thought, face contorting. "Fine! The rest of you, arrest—"

"I quit, too!"

"Me, too!"

"I resign! I'm not afraid of you, either!"

Azula stared, horrified. _No. No, they can't defy me, they're _mine_. They're supposed to serve me, no matter what the cost. _

Yet they continued resigning, one by one, some more forcefully than others. Swords crashed to the floor. People started walking toward the door behind her.

Mai's voice whispered in her ear. "What are you going to do now, Azula?"

_Don't talk to me, _she thought, sucking in a sharp breath. _You're _dead_, I killed my _father _for you, why are still talking to me? _"Banished!" she screamed, voice breaking. Blue fire exploded from her hands, burning bright with her fury. "You're all_ banished_! Get out of my sight, you're all _traitors_!" She choked on the last word, thinking of all the betrayals she'd endured. Zuko, numerous times. Ty Lee, when she'd left to help the Avatar. Her mother, who had abandoned her when she was young and vulnerable. Her father, when he'd tried to take away her right to the throne.

_I'll show them all. _"You're forever banished from the Fire Nation! Leave _immediately, _or you will all be put to death."

The guards filed out, their sudden silence hitting her like a slap. _I'll show them,_ she thought. _I can rule. I'll be the most successful Fire Lord in history. I'll show them. _

The Dai Li—still loyal to her, though they'd betrayed their own king—escorted the guards off the premises. One of her surviving handmaids appeared at her side, bowing. "Do you need anything, my Lady?" she asked, keeping her eyes averted.

"Get me something to drink," Azula snapped. "And schedule me an appointment at the royal spa. I've had enough unpleasantness for one morning."

"At once, my Lady." The woman disappeared.

Alone now, Azula walked over to her youngest handmaid's corpse. She stared at it for a long time, her eyes tracing the way the sheet hung over the girl's body. It _looked _like a corpse—the shape was definitely that of a human body, curled up in death.

Mai's voice whispered in her ear, even though Mai wasn't there. "Well, Azula, what do you think? Was she a mistake?"

"No," she whispered, turning for the door. "I don't make mistakes."


	48. Vegetable Soup

Chapter Forty-Eight

Katara felt the push and pull of the water the same way she could feel her heartbeat when she exerted herself. Her bending was so natural to her being that the mere thought of existing without it was unfathomable. She could no more exist without her waterbending than the concept of darkness could exist without light.

Bloodbending was not like waterbending.

"Feel anything?" she asked, her fingers going rigid as she tried to reach inside Zuko's body from six feet away even as she fumbled inside herself for an ability she couldn't quite wrap her head around.

He shook his head. "Not really."

She sighed, shoulders sinking. "I guess it doesn't always come out on command."

"Neither does lightning." Zuko plopped down on the sand and stared out at the ocean. Orange light played across his face as the sunset bled across their island. "You planning on telling anyone about bloodbending?"

"It would be kind of awkward if I told them and it didn't work." She frowned, remembering how she'd sometimes lost control of her waterbending back in the South Pole, before she'd been trained. Her temper had driven her bending then, but it hadn't been like that for months, not since Pakku had officially declared her a master waterbender. But with bloodbending, there had always been some emotional trigger: fear and pain, but also curiosity and tenderness. _Is that why I can't do it at will? _she wondered. _Because I don't want it enough?_

Her mind flashed back to that man at the hospital, how she'd ripped him apart from the inside without a thought. _I was scared, but that doesn't justify what happened. That man is probably dead. _

As her eyes filled, she decided to change the subject."Do you need me to leave you alone so you can work on your lightning?"

He shrugged. "I like being around you."

"That's not an answer."

"I wouldn't have time to work on my lightning anyway. I told Aang I'd take over his training at sunset."

Katara nodded. Zou had been working with Aang since lunch had ended, helping him practice the fundamentals. Early mornings and evenings belonged to Zuko, who believed that challenging techniques would, at this point, be more beneficial in Aang's battle with Ozai, and that they'd be able to learn more of the basics after the war ended.

She figured she didn't have much say in the content of the lessons. She wasn't a firebender, and Aang really did need to master firebending. Given his lack of progress, he'd be challenged no matter what they threw at him.

"I guess you should go do that, then," she murmured, tilting her head toward the setting sun. "I've got to make dinner anyway."

"Yeah." Zuko stood, starting for the other side of the beach, where Zou was teaching Aang how to balance a flame in each hand while standing in a rather awkward stance and trying to breathe properly.

Katara headed for the fire pit, surprised when she saw Suki slicing up vegetables she'd foraged on the island. The Kyoshi warrior seemed almost totally absorbed by the task, each cut precise, controlled. Katara waited until she finished cutting through one of the white tubers before interrupting. "Are we making something special for dinner?"

Suki glanced up, setting the knife aside. "No. I know you've used these before, so I figured I'd get some prep work out of the way. Might as well make myself useful."

Katara arched an eyebrow, but said nothing, merely taking a spot beside Suki and picking up a knife of her own. Toph had compressed some of the beach sand so they'd have a solid cutting board, but she couldn't help but yearn for the one she'd used in the South Pole. She'd traveled so far, but it had cost her nearly all the comforts of her home. _At least I still have my mother's necklace, _she thought. The Fire Nation had taken everything from her—her mother, the water from the Spirit Oasis, her chances at being normal. But it had also given her a reason to master waterbending, and a chance to make friends with people from all four nations. _And Zuko, _she thought.

"Yeah, we can use these," Katara said, sorting through the sliced tubers. "I'll make vegetable soup."

Minutes passed as they worked. It was soothing, like an old routine repeated so often, it took no thought.

"So," Suki said, cutting up another tuber.

Katara looked up. "Yes?"

"Do you think . . ." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Just . . . How did Sokka get along with Ty Lee before she was, you know . . ."

Katara blinked, processing the warrior's tone. "Well, I guess they were on good terms. It's hard not to like Ty Lee."

"Yes, but . . . Is that all? They weren't doing anything _else_ before I got here?"

"Not that I know of. I mean, I guess I could've missed something." She _had _been rather busy believing Aang had died when Sokka and Ty Lee would've interacted. Plus, she'd been preoccupied with Zuko for quite a while. "Why? Do you think something's going on between them?" She didn't like the thought that her brother might've pushed aside his relationship with Suki while they'd been apart, but it was possible. _If Zuko and I can fall in love, who knows what else could happen? _

Suki shook her head. "No, no. I'm sure Ty Lee wouldn't be . . ." Her nose twitched as she danced around the subject. "But when she asked to ride Appa, she specifically asked Sokka to go with her. I mean, if it gets her mind off all the bad stuff, then that's great, but . . ."

"But you're worried about how Sokka's going to interpret it."

"Yes! Yes, that's exactly it. Oh, do you think we have enough for the soup?"

Katara's eyes flashed down to the tubers, calculating. "Yeah. Let's cut up some of these." She picked up a couple dark red roots Suki had dug up this morning, knowing they'd go well with the tubers. She handed half to Suki and started slicing into her own. "I don't think you have to worry about Sokka. I mean, yeah, he's got a longer romantic history than a lot of people have by the time they're twenty, but he's a good guy. He wouldn't even think of doing something like that, even if Ty Lee wanted to." She frowned. Saying it in such vague terms felt uncomfortable somehow, as if she was referring to some embarrassing situation.

For a while, the only sound was the whisper of the waves at her back and the sound of their knives slicing through roots.

"I've never cared about anyone like I care about Sokka," Suki said, after a time. "I just . . . I hope he feels the same way about me."

Katara smiled. "You're one of the strongest people I know. How could he not love you?"

The Kyoshi warrior smiled ruefully. "Thanks, Katara. That helps a lot."


	49. A Desire to Protect

Chapter Forty-Nine

If there was one good thing about being in the Fire Nation, it was that the humid air didn't bite like the wind in the South Pole.

"This is nice," Ty Lee said. Her voice was soft, almost buried by the sound of the air streaking by as they flew. In fact, she'd been pretty soft-spoken and unobtrusive ever since Sokka had rejoined his friends.

"Is there a reason you wanted to do this now?" he asked. The words sounded strange to his ears, too forced. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to admit to himself or to Ty Lee that he'd made a mistake by kissing her that day on the beach, but it was better to end it now so it wouldn't crash down on him while they were fighting the Fire Lord.

Better to get this conversation out of the way before they were out of chances to talk about it.

"Yes," she said.

There was a pause.

"And that reason would be . . . ?"

He might've imagined Ty Lee's faint sigh, or it might've been the air, thick with humidity, whipping by his ear as Appa twisted through the sky. Either way, several seconds passed before Ty Lee spoke. "You love Suki."

Sokka winced, hands tightening on the reins. He tugged on the leather ropes, urging Appa to slow so they could land. Below, a cluster of islands dotted the sea, like drops of paint over a blue canvas. Appa descended with minimal prompting.

Ty Lee waited, saying nothing as sand scattered around them. Sokka climbed down and walked toward the back of the saddle to offer her a hand. She took it in silence, sliding down the bison's fur. As soon as her feet touched down, she released his hand.

_There is no way this conversation can turn out well, _he thought, lowering his head. He'd made mistakes. Everyone did. But he'd always expected to be a better person than the one who had betrayed Suki with that one impulsive kiss. "I made a mistake."

Ty Lee said nothing, brushing her hair behind her ear. It was grown back enough so that it no longer looked like a boy's haircut, but the ends were starting to fray, and it had lost some of its luster since they'd been captured and sent to separate prisons.

He wondered if her silence was meant to indicate disappointment or if it was an accusation. _Maybe both, _he thought. _I deserve it, whatever it is._

"Look," he said, trying to meet her eyes despite the guilt churning away in his stomach. "I'm sorry. You're right, I do love Suki. I should've told you, or . . . I wasn't . . ." He couldn't remember the last time he'd struggled for words like this. Every apology that flashed through his mind seemed inadequate. _How could I have led her on like that? How could I betray Suki? I used to be good at things like this, so why did I have to go and mess things up? _He swallowed thickly. "I just . . ."

For the first time since they'd landed, Ty Lee spoke. "Sokka, I love you."

* * *

><p>"You're doing it wrong."<p>

Aang groaned, and turned back to Zuko. "I've been working on this all day. Can't I take a break?"

"There isn't time for you to slack off. Do you realize how close Sozin's Comet is?"

The Avatar flung both hands into the air. "Of course I do! That's practically all I've been thinking about for the past year. But I can't _do _this!"

Zuko's eyebrow twitched; he closed his eyes. "Firebending isn't something you learn in a day, or even in a few weeks. Even Azula took years to master it, and she was a prodigy."

"Then what makes you think I can master it in time?"

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to rein in his impatience. He'd always thought everything had come so easily to the Avatar. Of course it was. Any Avatar who could master three of the four elements before they turned thirteen was a natural. Still, Zuko couldn't really bring that up now, when the Avatar was actually struggling with something. Zuko sighed. "Okay, change of plans. Sit down."

Aang plopped onto the sand and crossed his legs. Across from him, Zuko did the same, taking on a meditative position. "Are we going to meditate on the spiritual aspects of firebending?"

"No. We're going to talk about something." He paused, organizing his thoughts. "Firebending is directly tied to one's emotional state. Anger, passion, and hatred can all drive one's firebending, but there are other ways to do it." At least, that was what his Uncle had always claimed. Personally, Zuko found anger quite effective, but if that wasn't working for Aang, he had to think of another way.

"Like what?" Aang asked.

"You've seen Azula fight. She doesn't use anger, or at least she doesn't show it. She's cold-blooded."

He was surprised to see the airbender nodding. He hadn't expected someone who'd had such a peaceful upbringing to understand how a person could be so cold and cruel, yet still smile like they were in the middle of a game. Then again, perhaps the boy had fought with Azula enough that it didn't matter.

"My point is, you don't necessarily have to use anger to fight. It's effective, but you don't have to."

Aang nodded again. "Okay, so what else can we do?"

_That _stumped him for a minute. "Uh . . . Let me think." He frowned, trying to isolate other sources of firebending he'd tapped into. _The only time I've ever managed to shoot lightning was against my sister, but that can't be the only reason. I fought her before that and never managed to shoot lightning. _His eyebrows slanted down as he tried to identify other factors that had been related to his brief competence with lightning. _The first time it happened was in the Crystal Catacombs, when Azula was about to burn Katara with her fire blast. _

He hadn't loved Katara then, hadn't even considered love a possibility, but he did remember wanting to save her. She'd been the first of her group to offer him sympathy or kindness. He hadn't wanted her to be hurt.

"All right," Zuko said, pulling the Avatar from his abstraction. "Who do you care about most in this world?"

Aang's forehead wrinkled. "Well . . . Katara, I guess."

_Okay, good. Common ground. _"So you want to protect her, right?"

The Avatar nodded enthusiastically.

"Then when you're working on your firebending, imagine you're up against someone who _really _wants to hurt her. Fire isn't like air. Throwing a wall of air at a person won't hurt them, but even a little bit of fire can cause severe damage. When you strike, you have to mean it, and if you want to mean it, you need some reason to be doing it."

Aang hesitated. "But . . ."

"But what?" Zuko demanded.

"It's just . . . The air nomads were a peaceful people. They preferred to avoid confrontations whenever possible, and that if you had to fight, it was better to avoid hurting your opponent."

Zuko opened his mouth to tell him that didn't make any sense. Fighting was all _about _hurting your opponent. But Aang looked so uncertain. _What can I do? _Zuko wondered, frustrated. _How can I reverse years of pacifism? _

Katara's voice pierced through the air, loud and clear. "Aang! Zuko! Dinner's ready!"

A smile broke out across the Avatar's face as he shot to his feet. Zuko's hand snaked out, catching Aang's wrist and pulling him back before he could escape. "Hey, the lesson isn't over!"

"But it's time for dinner," Aang objected, tugging his arm away. Zuko kept a firm grip on him.

"Listen," he said. "You have to learn firebending, and to do that, you need to be motivated. I want you to think about all the things you want to protect, then make a list for our lesson tomorrow."

"Fine. Can I go now?"

Zuko released his wrist and watched the Avatar sprint toward the campfire. Most of the others had already gathered there and picked up bowls and eating utensils. After a moment, Zuko sighed. _I need to find a way to get him to learn firebending, _he thought. _But how am I supposed to do that when he goes bounding off every chance he gets?_

"Zuko, are you coming?" Katara asked when he didn't approach immediately. Warmth flooded his chest as their eyes met, almost painful in its intensity. _I have someone I need to protect, _he thought, starting toward the campfire. _I always used to fight for myself, to prove I could surpass my sister, but I was never able to produce lightning until I chose to protect someone else. Is that why I'm still able to keep fighting? Have I remained strong because I want to protect the people I care about more than I want to prove myself to my father? _

He didn't know. All he knew was that he'd do anything to protect her, even if it cost him everything else.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_I know I haven't been updating very often lately. I've had horrible writer's block on this story, and it probably shows. But since I just got my wisdom teeth taken out, I've got a lot of time in which I'm basically doing nothing but sitting around, so I managed to eke out a chapter for you guys. Hope it doesn't seem as terrible to you as it does to me. _


	50. Not Yet

Chapter Fifty

Zou watched the Avatar's training from the top of a palm tree.

The steep challenges the prince gave the Avatar irked him, but he couldn't deny Aang was making progress. Zou could still see faults in the airbender's stances, and every time he breathed wrong, he gritted his teeth to keep from calling out a correction, but the boy's firebending was stronger, less timid than before.

Zou thought he'd learned to keep his mouth shut, that years of living under his father's roof as a burden and a bastard had taught him self-control, but the longer he watched the prince train with Aang, the harder it was to clamp down on his annoyance.

"Put some fire behind it," Zuko commanded, snapping into a front stance and shooting a fireball from his own fist. The glowing sphere shot across the beach, illuminating the pale sand and rising into the air. Zou wondered if the prince even realized how hazardous firebending at night was to their cover. Already, there were whispers that the Avatar had survived the assault on the Fire Nation on the Day of Black Sun. There had been a rumor this morning, when he'd made a run to the market to get into the group's good graces. Someone's friend of a friend had supposedly seen a giant flying bison heading west near their island. Which was quite likely true.

But he kept quiet. Stealth required the target to grow complacent. After losing the Agni-Kai against the prince, Zou wasn't ready to strike again. Not yet.

_But soon, _he thought, ever aware of the pressing deadline. _It will have to be soon. If he survives past Sozin's Comet, it'll be too late to get him out of the way. _

There was a small part of him that felt guilty for what he had to do. It had been Zuko's mother who'd permitted him to join the rebel forces, and it rankled him to hurt her like this. But Lady Ursa, despite her ability to weave an intricate, underground movement like a master artisan, had a blind spot when it came to her children. She didn't realize how much of the Fire Lord they had in them.

Ursa didn't realize that her children needed to die.

"Watch your stance," Zuko said, still working through the firebending form with Aang. They'd been practicing this one for an hour now, and the young airbender had managed to learn the movements, if not the finer details.

"Sorry," Aang said, sounding much more weary than apologetic. His attitude seemed so odd—he was the last hope for the world, and he was running on a tight schedule. If Zou had been in his place, he would've been eager to master the new form, would've skipped meals and sleep to learn it. Instead, Aang was holding back, as if he was more afraid of getting burned than of failing to stop Ozai.

"You have to keep focused. We've only got a couple weeks left before the comet. You have to face my father before then."

"_My father." He still calls Ozai his father. _Zou shifted with unease, the palm leaves shifting with him. When the prince glanced up at him, he froze. _How did he even hear that? He was so far away. _

"What are you doing up there?"

Zou bit his lip, repressing the urge to glare. It was imperative that the prince forget he was a threat, or he'd never be able to sneak up on him. _He has excellent hearing. I'll have to remember that. _"Just watching," he called in response.

"Well if you've got time to watch, come down here and help."

The invitation, and the annoyed tone that accompanied it, startled him. He watched uncertainly from his perch, trying to discern whether or not the prince was serious. When Zuko didn't turn away, Zou slid down the trunk and walked over. "What does he need help with?"

"Everything."

"Hey," Aang interrupted. "I can _hear _you, you know."

"Keep practicing," Zuko said, before turning back to Zou. "We've got to coordinate a better method of training. Working in shifts isn't going to do us any good if we can't get on the same page."

_I don't want to be on the same page as you. _Again, he held the words back. _Make him trust you. Make him forget how much you hate him. _"Okay, fine. What do you think he needs the most work on?"

"Defensive techniques."

Zou blinked. "You realize this is firebending, right?"

"I _know_. He's not going to be able to match my father in firebending, but if he can block or divert his attacks, he stands a much better chance of ending this war."

He frowned, considering that. It made sense—the Fire Lord had years of experience on Aang, so no matter how hard he trained, he wasn't likely to surpass his enemy. Not in that element.

"He also needs better motivation," Zuko went on. "I've gotten some results by reminding him what he stands to lose, but that's only going to hold up for so long. As soon as he loses his drive, he's going to lose his firebending."

Zou nodded. Drive was something he understood well. The Avatar presented a sort of enigma when it came to drive, knowing what was at stake without trying addressing the problem. "I don't know a lot about positive reinforcement," he said, since that seemed to be the only alternative.

Zuko flung his hands up in the air. Zou flinched at the sudden motion, feeling the fire flare in his chest for a moment before regaining control of himself. "I don't know anything about positive reinforcement, _either_," Zuko said. "but we have to try something."

"There are other styles of firebending besides the military standards. Styles that cover the defensive arts more thoroughly."

The annoyance vanished from the prince's tone. "Like what?"

"I did some research, before I left my father's house." He'd done a _lot_ of research, actually, most of which had been necessary for him to finagle his way into the rebel forces. Being the bastard son of a minor noble had helped—he'd had access to scrolls that were not permitted in public libraries, and his baseborn status meant that no one considered him much of a threat. Zou knew more about the politics behind the war than most adults in the Fire Nation, and part of those politics included cultivating hatred and anger to fuel firebending on the battlefield.

It was easier to hurt people if you hated them.

"I once read a scroll about the ancient civilization of the Sun Warriors," he said, recalling an old text he'd picked up in his father's basement. "According to the records, they died out thousands of years ago, but there are still ruins where they used to exist."

"We might be able to learn something there," Zuko said, turning away and pacing. For just an instant, when the prince turned his back, Zou considered striking. It would only take one decisive blast, and the prince would be too incapacitated to fight back.

_Not yet, _he reminded himself. _The Avatar has too much to learn, and I can't teach him all of it._

"Were there scrolls?" Zuko asked.

"I don't know. The text I read was an account from an old explorer. The Sun Warriors might not have had paper."

"Even if there isn't, there'll still be clues. Where can we find these ruins?"

Zou closed his eyes, trying to remember. "There was an ancient city. Some villages, too, but I don't think we'd have as much luck there. I don't know the name of the island, but if I had a map, I could point it out."

"Sokka will have a map. I'll talk to him when he gets back."

"I can talk to him." Sokka was one of the only people he really talked to in this group, since he'd been the first of the Avatar's party that he'd encountered. Zou didn't consider the water tribe warrior a _friend_—Zou didn't consider anyone a friend, especially knowing that all his old friends supported the war just like the rest of his nation—but Sokka was easy enough to talk to. _Better him than the prince. Better him than the next Ozai._

"Okay."

The quick agreement caught him off-guard. He looked up to see Zuko looking thoughtful.

"When Sokka comes back, ask him for a map. I'll need you to give me a location so I can get there, and then—"

"Why don't I just come along?" He didn't trust the prince alone with the Avatar, not for a second. _It's a miracle anyone lets Ozai's son near him in the first place._

"Okay . . . I guess you can come. Anyway, get me the location, and we'll leave at sunrise tomorrow."

"Fine." He turned away, just wanting to be finished with this conversation. It was nerve-wracking to stand so close to the prince, knowing he had to strike and still having to wait. After only a step, something wrapped around his wrist.

_No, _he thought, panic twisting through his gut. _No, I'm sorry, I won't dishonor you again, I'm sorry. _"Let go!" he squeaked.

The hand released him instantly. He whirled around, breathing hard, knees locked and arms pressed flat against his sides. Zuko was staring at him, moonlight glinting off his golden eyes so they looked like the eyes of a predator. A few feet behind Zuko, Aang watched with a concerned expression.

"Hey, Zou, are you all right?" the airbender asked.

He exhaled. _Control yourself. There are some lessons that are better forgotten. _"I'm fine." His voice was stiff, wooden. He forced himself to meet Zuko's eyes. "I'll talk to Sokka as soon as he gets back, and I'll be ready at sunrise."

Zuko's lips turned down at the corners. It wasn't quite a frown, but it conveyed the same sense of unhappiness. Zou lowered his eyes, retreating within himself even as a tiny part of him was revolted at the thought of bowing his head to the Fire Lord's son. _If he considers me subservient, it'll be easier to get past his guard later, _he told himself. _I have to do this. _

Zuko returned the bow, his expression still troubled. Zou waited a beat, then stepped back, retreating without ever losing sight of the prince. Eventually, Zuko turned to Aang and told him to keep working on his form.

_Not yet, _Zou thought. _Soon, but not yet. _


	51. Becoming the Wind

Chapter Fifty-One

The letter arrived at sunset.

"Lady Ursa," called one of her servants, voice muffled by the door. Ursa glanced up from the piece of parchment she'd been writing on, heart quickening at the urgency in the girl's tone. "There's a message."

"Come inside," she said, setting aside her quill. Even on a ship with her most trusted associates, isolated by miles of ocean, the possibility of spies weighed heavily on her mind. She'd learned enough of espionage before she'd been banished to be wary even in the supposed comfort of her friends.

The servant slipped into the room, glancing behind as she closed the door. In her hands was a scroll with a crimson seal.

"What is that?"

"A message for you, Lady Ursa. The seal indicates it came directly from the palace."

Ursa heard the cautious edge to the words and knew that the girl had no way of telling whether or not the seal was genuine. She held her hand out, letting the servant slide the scroll into her palm. She made a dismissive gesture, waiting for the girl to disappear before examining the letter. The candlelight flickered over the seal, illuminating it so it seemed to glow an eerie scarlet.

_This is Councilor Temar's seal, _she thought, unease pooling in her stomach. The councilor had been out of contact for months now, and hadn't responded to any of her encrypted letters. After sending three letters and receiving no response, she'd assumed he'd been discovered as a mole. _It could be a forgery, someone trying to draw us out. If someone's caught on to the rebellion's movements, everything could fall apart. Yet if the councilor has been lying low, this message could be grave. _

Another minute passed. One of her candles guttered out, the flame drowning in a puddle of melted wax. It felt like weeks that she'd been on this ship, though in truth, it had only been a days. It was as if knowing her children were at war with each other had neutralized her efforts to reach either of them. She couldn't send a message to Azula while the princess was at the palace—the risk was too high, and Ursa understood her daughter enough to know Ozai would hear of it. And for years, Ursa had been unable to send her son a message for the same reasons.

Yet she couldn't ignore a message from Councilor Temar. Not with Sozin's Comet so close. _It might be Ozai's battle plans, _she thought, slipping her finger under the edge of the parchment and breaking the wax seal. The paper unfurled in her hands, the smell of dust and parchment filling her nostrils. Ursa adjusted her candles and began reading.

_There has been an upheaval at court, _it said, in Councilor Temar's neat calligraphy. Her mind decoded the encrypted characters with ease after years of practice. _Ozai was found dead in his chambers early this morning. It is suspected one of the servants committed the assassination. That servant has been executed, but was not, to my knowledge, one of ours. Madam Tazia has been executed as well, on suspicion of espionage. _

The words hit her like a physical blow. Tazia had been her handmaiden for years prior to her banishment, as well as one of her dearest friends. To hear that she'd been killed for the sake of her duty . . . It took Ursa a moment to collect herself enough to read on.

_Princess Azula has taken the throne. She has not disclosed this information to the rest of the Fire Nation at the time of this letter, but the council is of the opinion that the news will spread regardless of her decision. At this moment, the Fire Nation court is stable, but tense. There is much to do, and little time to write. I will do my best to keep in contact; however, due to the recent executions and banishments, I may be forced to deepen my cover._

—_Councilor Temar. _

Ursa reread the note, blinking every few seconds to clear her eyes of tears. Then she went to the door and knocked on the wall three times in rapid succession. Her servant poked her head in, awaiting orders. "Bring General Iroh to my chambers, please. Tell him we're heading to the capital."

* * *

><p>The words hung in the air like odorless poison. Ty Lee stood, knees locked, waiting for a response. <em>Say it back, <em>she thought. _You have to say "I love you" back._

A pained expression passed over Sokka's face. He opened his mouth, then closed it, looking away as if he'd been struck. "I'm sorry."

Her body gave a slight shudder, the words traveling through her soul like ripples in a pond. Time slowed to a stop, the air becoming stagnant, toxic. The glimmer of hope that she'd allowed to sprout withered and died. Ty Lee fell to her knees, a brown, dried-out husk of the person she'd once been.

"Oh," she said. The word seemed so inadequate, but she couldn't find the will to say anything more.

"I'm sorry," Sokka said more intensely. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake, I made a bad mistake. I should've never led you on like that. Believe me, I didn't mean to do it. I . . ." He bowed his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know how else to say it, but I am."

_A mistake . . . I was a mistake for him. _She wrapped her arms around her torso, fighting off the cold sensation washing over her skin. _Of course I was. I could never be anything but a mistake to him. I'll never be anything for anyone. _The words set themselves in her mind, repeating over and over with a clarity she hadn't felt since she'd been taken prisoner. It wasn't like the words that usually echoed in her head—the twisted murmurs of her captors, or Azula's accusations. These words belonged solely to her.

_I will never be anything for anyone. _

Ty Lee's breath shook as she exhaled, a strange thrill of relief shooting through her. _I don't have to be anything for anyone anymore. I don't have to be Azula's pet. I don't have to be someone's prisoner. I don't have to be the perfect girl._

Her vision blurred, her chest shaking more and more as she tried to breathe. It took her several seconds to realize she was _laughing_. "It was . . ." She gasped as a spasm shot through her spindly body. "It was all f-for nothing. Everything I was trying to be, everything I was trying to fight . . . It was all for _nothing_!" Another fit overtook her, and for almost a minute, all she could do was laugh. Laugh and laugh because, even after everything that had happened, her desire to feign normalcy for _everyone _was absolutely pointless.

"Are you okay?" Sokka asked. "You're crying."

She lifted a trembling hand to her cheek and felt the sticky tears rolling down the side of her face. _I'm crying . . . I'm really crying. _Another tear slipped down her skin, a shining liquid gem. She captured it on her fingertip and stared at it through a thin film of saltwater. "Yes," she croaked. "Everything's fine." _I'm free. I can cry, and no one will call me weak or try to take advantage of me._ She laughed again, delighting in the feeling of _real _laughter, and _real _emotion. "Everything's wonderful, don't you see?"

"Um . . . Okay. Are you sure?"

Ty Lee nodded, shooting up to her feet and taking his hands. "I'm free, Sokka. It doesn't matter what happened to me. I'm free now." She flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his pale blue shirt. "I'm free," she said again, tasting the words. "I'm free of all of it."

Hesitantly, Sokka's arms coiled around her torso as he patted her shoulder. It wasn't a romantic gesture, and somehow, that made it even better. _I was so ridiculous, thinking I needed that kind of love to be whole. _She giggled again, then wriggled out of his embrace, her feet dancing over the sand as she twirled across the beach.

"You're taking this really well," Sokka said, his eyes tracking her dance.

She laughed, wiping her eyes. More moisture moved in to fill the emptiness, but instead of feeling ashamed of her tears, as she'd been conditioned to feel in the Fire Nation, she felt relief. If she could cry, that meant she could feel and react as a normal person should.

It was wonderful. It was the most wonderful thing she'd felt in months.

"Let's go back to the island," she said, skipping across the beach and leaping onto Appa's back. She'd regained enough muscle mass since her escape to flip through the air. If anything, her lower body weight made the maneuver even easier, as if her body had become the wind. _Is this what it's like to be an airbender? _she wondered, spinning around as she took a seat on Appa's saddle.

Sokka climbed into the front of the saddle and took hold of the reins. When he glanced back at her, Ty Lee's lips pulled up into a wide grin. He smiled softly in response, then tugged on the reins. "Yip yip!"

Appa grumbled and shot up into the sky. The wind ran its fingers through Ty Lee's hair, flapping against her face as they ascended. Her smile widened, heart racing as they rose higher and higher above the cerulean waters. The sunset bled into the clouds, dying them a deep orange. They flew toward the light, toward the island where their friends were waiting.

_To a place where I can be free, _she thought, raising her face to meet the wind.


	52. Revelations

Chapter Fifty-Two

"Can we be done for the night?" Aang asked, massaging his arm. After hours of practice, his limbs ached and his muscles were tender. Surely, Zuko could see that, couldn't he?

"Aang, you've messed up on the form three times in a row now. You have to get this right."

"We've been working for _hours_."

"So?"

"I'm _sick_ of training."

Zuko looked at him for a long moment, his face as still as stone. Aang braced himself for a lecture—both Zuko and Zou had been going on _all day _about how he needed to keep practicing, and while he agreed that it was important to master all four elements, he couldn't recall ever being this frustrated or exhausted.

The firebender closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Air hissed through his nostrils as he exhaled. "Fine. Get some sleep. We have stuff to do tomorrow."

Aang barely heard the last few words, skipping across the beach with renewed energy. Behind him, Zuko groaned.

The others were split between those who had gone to sleep and those who continued to huddle around the fire, talking amongst themselves. He could barely hear their murmured conversations with Sokka snoring like an armadillo-bear, so when he plopped down on the log next to Katara, he had to wait to get the gist of the conversation.

"So I'm waving my arms, trying to call them back to shore, and I can _see _the Unagi breaking the surface behind them. And they're _still _not listening to me." Suki made a frustrated gesture, then continued her tale, which Aang soon discovered was in regard to a late night party on Kyoshi Island prior to his revival from hibernation. He leaned forward, absorbing the details with the same fascination he felt for carnival games, relieved to hang out with his friends like a normal kid.

"Sounds like a big mess to me," Katara said when Suki finished her tale. "I can see why you made them walk barefoot through the snow."

"Well, that, and they needed the endurance training." The Kyoshi warrior shrugged and picked up a chipped teacup filled with green tea.

Katara turned to him. "So how did firebending practice go?"

"Oh, you know. Good." He kept his voice light, not wanting to allude to the fact that Zuko had found no less than seventeen faults in his form the last time he'd gone through it, or the fact that his whole body ached from the exertion. "I would rather have been here with you, though," he added, when Katara only nodded.

She glanced up, seeming startled by his declaration. After a moment, she bent over and picked up her own cup of tea from where it sat by her feet. "Yeah. We haven't gotten to hang out much lately, I guess."

He perked up. "We should go out and have some fun soon. I know this great place in the Fire Nation where you can go cliff diving, and it's not even dangerous—"

"Not so fast." Zuko's voice cut in, spearing Aang's heart like a javelin. He looked over his shoulder at the firebender, his expression as close to a glower as it ever got. "We're going to search for another method of firebending tomorrow. You won't have time to play around."

Aang groaned.

"Zuko, don't you think you might be pushing him a little hard?" Katara asked. "He's only thirteen."

_Only thirteen. _The words echoed in his mind, weighing heavily on his sore shoulders. _It's like I'm just a kid to her. How can I make her understand how much she matters to me? _He frowned, glancing between Zuko and Katara.

"He's the Avatar. If there was another way to do this, I would, but we don't have time."

"But he's still just a kid."

Aang winced. Katara had turned fifteen this winter, which meant their age gap was a little over two years. He knew that, in the long term, two years wasn't much of a difference at all, but how could he prove to her that he was someone to be taken seriously instead of a goofy kid? _Maybe Zuko and Zou are right. Maybe I have to grow up some before she can see me as an equal. But still . . . _He looked up at Katara's face, noting the way the firelight played off her dark skin. It even flickered in her eyes, a sharp contrast to the deep cerulean he saw by day.

"Forget it," Zuko said, slumping onto the log on Katara's right. Aang eyed the close proximity between them, unsettled. _Does she think of him as mature? _he wondered. The firebender was prone to angry outbursts, but Aang had seen enough of him to know he had the potential to be a competent leader, perhaps even a good Fire Lord(though given his predecessors, that probably wasn't as hard as it sounded). Did that make him more mature?

Did Katara like him more because of it?

"Zuko, can we talk for a minute?" The words came out of nowhere as Katara shot to her feet. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, shifting like melted chocolate as she rose. "It's important."

Zuko's eyes widened—the scarred one less than the other—but he complied, rising from the makeshift bench and following the waterbender as she strode off into the woods. Aang watched them go, tensed to follow, but knowing that their departure meant he wasn't welcome in their conversation. And with Suki sitting at the fire next to a rather tired-looking Ty Lee, Aang knew he couldn't follow them without having someone raise an alarm.

_Okay, think. How do you get past a chi-blocker and a warrior? _His mind raced, a dozen different ideas occurring to him before he settled on one. He stood up and stretched, joints cracking as they extended as far as they would go. He let out an exaggerated yawn, fanning his hand over his mouth for effect. "Well, I guess I should get some sleep so I can get up early tomorrow," he said, keeping the words flowing slowly so he would sound tired instead of wound up.

Suki glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow as if wondering why he'd bothered to voice his decision, then shrugged, looking back down at the campfire.

Still stretching, Aang strolled over to the edge of the jungle, keeping away from the place where Katara and Zuko had slipped into the trees. Once he was out of sight of the campfire, he made a sharp left turn and half-ran, half-flew toward his absent friends. As he drew closer, his ears honed in on the murmured conversation.

"Aang just doesn't respond well to pressure," Katara was saying, her voice layered with the concern he'd grown used to hearing since he'd started traveling with her. "I think it would be easier if you tried to make firebending practice more fun for him."

Aang inched closer, keeping low and peering through the bushes. He saw Zuko make a frustrated gesture. "Firebending isn't like waterbending. If you mess up waterbending, you get wet. If you mess up firebending, you get _burned_."

Dismay flickered across her face. "Right, but . . . Aang said he'd learned how to heal since the last time we saw him. Maybe some controlled firebending fun would be okay?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I didn't grow up learning that firebending was _fun_, I grew up learning that it was useful."

Katara put her hands on her hips. "Are you implying that waterbending isn't useful?"

"No! No, that wasn't it. I just . . ." He sighed, but it wasn't the exasperated sigh Aang had gotten used to hearing from him, it was a resigned sort of sigh. "Okay. I'll think of something."

_Did Katara just get him to give in? _he wondered, forehead wrinkling. _That fast? How is that even possible? I tried for _hours _to get Zuko to give up for the night. _

Katara smiled at Zuko, the same smile she'd shown Aang so often before he'd been captured in the Crystal Catacombs. The approving smile. The kind smile. _Why is she smiling like that for _him_?_

"Glad to hear it," she said, leaning toward Zuko. Aang's eyebrows knitted together. _What is she doing? _

For the first time tonight, Zuko's lips curved up in the corners. He leaned forward the same way Katara had a moment ago. Horror washed through him as their lips met.

_No. No, this can't be happening. They can't be _together_, it's Katara and Zuko! That doesn't even make sense! When did they have time . . . _The thought withered even as he considered the possibilities.

Because Zuko and Katara _had _had time. Time working together after the Crystal Catacombs, time bonding and training together. Time they'd spent without him being there.

"Love you," Zuko said, pulling back from the kiss.

_Don't say it, _Aang thought. _You can't say it back to him. I was supposed to be the one to hear you say that. _

"I love you too, Zuko."

Aang's eyes burned, throat constricting as if someone had tied a string around his neck and pulled it taut. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to rush in and demand an explanation, to instead dart away in silence. After a few minutes, his horror faded to numbness, his pace slowing. When he finally made his way to Appa, he collapsed against the bison's side, pressing his face into the soft white fur to stop the tears from flowing. Appa gave a low grumble, shifting slightly as if to offer comfort. Momo crawled down from the bison's back and snuggled against his head, chattering mournfully.

His breath hitched. "No, no, no . . . This can't be happening to me." He threw himself backwards, landing hard on the sand as if the impact would distract him from the emotional torment. It only made him feel worse.

_How can she love him and not me? He was our enemy for _months_. Doesn't she remember that? _More tears slipped down the side of his face. Momo snuggled against his cheek, drying the tears just as quickly as they came. "It's because I'm just a kid to her, isn't it? She can't take me seriously, so she doesn't realize how much she means to me."

Saying it made the thought easier to bear somehow, and allowed him to think more clearly. _I have to prove her wrong. I have to do something brave so she'll know I'm not a kid. _He stood up and grabbed his new, gold-winged glider from the bag on Appa's saddle. As it unfolded, Momo crawled onto his shoulder and wrapped his paws around Aang's neck.

"Sorry, Momo, but you're staying here. I've got a Fire Lord to face."


	53. Tension

Chapter Fifty-Three

Zuko always rose with the sun. It was a natural part of being a firebender, as well as a habit that had been ingrained into him since early childhood. It was ill-befitting of a prince to sleep in, after all. So when he opened his eyes, he was unsurprised to see the dull glow of the sun rising over the water.

He was, however, surprised to find Momo snuggled up against his chest. He stared at the white creature, puzzled. Momo tended to sleep with either Aang or Katara, and since Zuko could feel Katara's hair tickling his wrist as he came out of his slumber, he had to wonder why the little creature had chosen to curl up next to _him._

As he stirred, Momo woke and darted across the sleeping area, perching himself on a fallen branch and picking a leechi nut off the ground.

There was something odd about their sleeping area, though it took him a moment to put his finger on it. He sat up, looking around. _Where's Aang?_ he wondered._ Is he up already?_

"Hmm." He stood up and grabbed his travel pack from the ground, pulling out a fresh outfit for the day and heading into the woods to change. When he was dressed, he headed to the section of beach where he usually taught Aang. _Maybe he got up early so he could practice before we head out . . . _

When a quick look around revealed no sign of the airbender, a coil of annoyance formed in his stomach. He and Zou had been getting Aang up for practice within half an hour of sunrise every morning—if Aang wasn't sleeping or eating, he was supposed to be training.

Before his irritation could burn out of control, he caught sight of Zou carrying an armful of dry wood to the edge of the campfire. The burnt-out pit was nothing more than embers now, and the wood pile had been looking rather depleted for a few days now, so perhaps, Zuko reasoned, Zou had gotten up early and enlisted Aang's help in gathering firewood.

The younger firebender glanced up as he approached, his black eyes wary. At once, he set aside the pile of lumber and squared his shoulders, looking up at Zuko through his brown bangs. "Yes?"

"Have you seen Aang? He's not sleeping with everyone else, and he wasn't at the usual training spot."

Confusion broke out across Zou's face. For the first time since they'd met, the boy looked genuinely uncertain. "No. I've been up for almost half an hour, and I haven't seen him. I figured he was with you."

"He's not."

Zou's voice sharpened. "You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Can you help me look for him?"

"I don't know. Is there anything left to look for?"

The unspoken accusation rankled. Zuko's hands clenched into fists. "Well, I'm sure that if I'd tried to toast the Avatar to bits, _someone _would've gotten up and raised the alarm."

Zou's eyes narrowed.

"Look," Zuko said, struggling to keep his voice level. "I understand that you don't like me, but we really don't have time for this. Sozin's Comet is barely a week away, and if we don't find Aang, there's not going to be a world to save anymore."

"What about there not being a world to save?" asked a bleary voice. Zuko turned to see Toph rubbing her eyes.

"Uh . . ." _Great. How am I supposed to explain this one? _

"We can't find Aang," Zou said.

Toph continued massaging her eyes as if doing so would ease her grogginess. "I'm sure Twinkletoes is just wandering around on the island somewhere."

An idea occurred to Zuko just then. He stepped forward. "You can sense things as long as they're touching the ground, right? Can you sense if Aang is still on the island?"

"Sure thing, Sparky." She yawned, head lolling to the side as the joints in her neck cracked. Then, she took an earthbending stance, legs shoulder-width apart, and stomped on the ground. The sand solidified around her foot at the impact, creating a little patch of stone.

Silence stretched between the three of them, punctuated by Sokka's snores.

"He's not on the island," Toph said, relaxing her stance.

_Damn it, _he thought. "We have to start looking for him. Wherever he is, he won't be far."

Zou nodded. "I'll wake the others."

"I'll get Appa," Zuko said, starting toward the patch of jungle where they had hidden the flying bison. Part of him wondered if Appa would even still be there, or if Aang had taken the creature to wherever he was going. _No. Someone would've noticed Appa taking off. Aang probably took the glider._

When he found Aang's leather bag sprawled across the sand, his heart sunk. The pack lay flat and wrinkled. Though Aang usually traveled light when he wasn't riding on Appa's back, the fact that he'd taken only enough supplies for a short departure sent a pang of unease through Zuko's stomach. _He must have a specific destination. If he was just going to the market, he would've told someone. _

He knelt down and surveyed the remaining items, already knowing what would remain and what wouldn't, but unwilling to ignore the search for clues. Aang had taken his glider, as well as a handful of pocket change and the set of clothes he wore to conceal his tattoos whenever strangers strayed too close to their island. _Where could he go that would require him to blend in? _he wondered. A dozen possibilities flitted to his mind: a town, a circus, a firebending academy . . . _Or the palace, _he thought.

He wanted to dismiss the thought—Aang had been so reluctant to face the Fire Lord. It didn't make sense for him to change his mind. _He's not ready; he must know that. What could possibly compel him to go off to fight the Fire Lord on his own, without telling anyone?_

His mind whispered an answer, even as he shied away from the thought. _He might've done it to keep everyone else out of harm's way. _

Zuko stood, lips pressing together in a grim line. Zuko was contemplating the possibility that Aang had decided to sacrifice himself to bring down their enemy, rather than risking the rest of them, when he heard the others tromping across the sand toward him.

"Zuko, what's going on?" Katara asked. "Have you found anything?"

"Aang took his glider and his Fire Nation clothes. Wherever he's going, it isn't meant to be a long trip."

"Where would he go?" Toph demanded, making a frustrated gesture. "We've got people here who can go in public without drawing suspicion. He doesn't _need _to go anywhere."

"Maybe we're overreacting," Sokka said. "Maybe he had trouble sleeping and decided to go out and fly around for a while."

Katara was shaking her head before her brother had even finished. "Aang wouldn't do that. He knows how important it is to keep a low profile."

Zuko wanted to point out the fact that they were housing several Fire Nation traitors, a waterbender, an earthbender, and a _giant flying bison _on their island, but Sokka cut in before he could say it.

"We have to split up and search for him." Sokka turned to Toph and Suki. "The three of us should start a ground search of all the nearby islands. Toph, I'm going to need your seismic sense for that. Everyone else will take Appa, then fan out to search more distant places."

"I think he's headed to the capital," Zuko blurted out. The others all turned to stare at him.

"Why do you think that?" Katara asked, her voice businesslike, focused.

"That's the only place that makes sense. The whole point of what we've been doing was to get Aang ready to face my father."

"But we never said he had to do it alone!"

_No. But I told him there were people he had to protect, and now he's gone off alone so the rest of us won't be in danger. _"We have to stop him. We don't know how long he's been gone, but if he _is_ going to the capital, we have to stop him before he gets there." He turned to Zou, uneasy about relying on him when he could see the cold gleam of hatred in his eyes, but seeing no other choice. "You said you have contacts in the Fire Nation—contacts who know things. I need you to find someone who's likely to know where Aang's flown off to, in case he isn't heading for the palace."

"It's not that simple!" Zou nearly shouted. "Rumors don't just fly to all the right ears the minute they start. It could take days before word of his location gets to one of my contacts, and even longer for me to find a contact that knows enough to be helpful to us."

"We don't have days. At best, we have a few hours. Fact is, you know people I don't, and you blend in with the rest of the Fire Nation. Can I trust you to at least _try _to get that information?"

Zou's eyes flickered at the word "trust." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked down, evidently feeling the weight of everybody's eyes. "Fine. Get me into the capital and I can get information."

"Good." He picked up his bag and tossed it into Appa's saddle. "Let's go."


	54. Growing Pains

Chapter Fifty-Four

"Are you certain this is a wise course of action?"

Ursa paced in her chambers, her hips swaying with the lilting ship as it plowed through the sea. "The game has changed, Iroh. I want to see Zuko as much as you do, but we don't have an exact location and we can't afford to spend time looking. Not anymore." She picked up the letter again, trying to keep her breathing under control as she reread words she'd already memorized. _"Princess Azula has taken the throne . . . news will spread regardless of her decision." _The words haunted her, winding their way into her heart and digging deeper until it bled.

"What are you going to do once you get to the capital?" Iroh asked, tucking his hands in his sleeves as he watched her pace across the room. His golden eyes reflected the candlelight. "You are cunning, Ursa, but you can't charge in without a plan."

"My children are at war with each other. One of them is now in charge of the Fire Nation. My husband was murdered a few days ago, and I'm just now finding out about it. Forgive me if I'm a little anxious to be on my way home."

"You forget yourself, Ursa. You are still banished. As Fire Lord, Azula would have the authority to permit you to return to the Fire Nation, but there are better ways to ask. Showing up at the palace is much more hazardous than merely sending a letter."

She turned to him. "Iroh, I have sewn the seeds to end this war, whatever it takes. Many of my subordinates don't even know I'm a part of this operation." She bowed her head. To remain within the Fire Nation, she'd limited her contacts to as few people as possible. Even Iroh, who backed her cause in every feasible way, was permitted in her presence only out of necessity. "My daughter is Fire Lord now," she continued. "That means she's at risk, from a rebellion I'm a part of, possibly even from an order I've given. How can go on, knowing that I put my own daughter's life in jeopardy? I must do something."

"I understand your desire to keep your children from harm," Iroh said, his expression softening. "I only wish I could have done the same for my own son, so many years ago. But are you certain there is no wiser course of action? A letter to your contacts at the palace, perhaps?"

"Not possible. One of my dearest friends was executed because she followed the orders in a letter." Tazia's face flashed through her mind, and Ursa prayed it had been a quick end. "This way, it will only be my life at risk. I must bear the responsibility of my daughter's safety on my own. That is what a mother does."

Iroh closed his eyes. "If you feel that is best, I will not stop you. Just remember, Ursa, a river can only flow in one direction. If you find yourself headed down the wrong path, it will take considerable paddling to find your way back."

Ursa smiled. "Zuko was lucky to have you at his side. I hope he took your advice better than I do."

"He has more of his mother in him than his father." Iroh smiled back, if only for a moment. Then his face turned somber. "If you are certain of your course, I will take the ship."

"Thank you. I know Zuko will be in good hands, once you find him." _And hopefully Azula will be amenable to my suggestions. _

She thought of the years since she'd seen her daughter, the cold cruelty Ozai had instilled in the girl before they'd parted, and bit her lip. _If she even deigns to see me at all._

* * *

><p>The Fire Nation Capital was just starting to stir when Aang landed on the edge of the caldera.<p>

He'd been thinking all night, his mind processing what he'd seen, what he had to do. Hours of smooth, uninterrupted flight had given him time to work through what he'd needed to face.

Perhaps a part of him had known. He'd seen the way Zuko had brushed Katara's hair back before his Agni-Kai with Zou, seen the way she'd looked at him afterward. So perhaps Aang had known, subconsciously, that there was something between them. The kiss had merely forced him to confront the reality of it.

Aang understood all that, but it still hurt, knowing he'd missed his chance.

With a sigh, he set his glider aside and untied his bundle of Fire Nation clothes from the end of the staff. His new glider was more durable than his old one, sturdy enough to support both his weight and that of his belongings. He hadn't brought everything with him—he hadn't wanted it to be immediately evident, when the others woke, that he'd left—which meant he only had one change of clothes.

It didn't matter. He'd either be in and out, or he wouldn't live long enough to need the extra outfit.

He changed quickly, not wanting to be seen in his monk's clothing. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, and the Fire Nation Capital would be bustling with life within the hour, if Zuko's morning routine was anything like his people's. It was better to get this done before there were too many people to get in his way.

_I have to do this, _he thought, closing his eyes as he pulled a cotton cap over his head to conceal his tattoos. For the first time, he wished he hadn't shaved off the malnourished curls he'd grown in prison—having them would've covered most of his tattoos. Then again, he already had a scar along his back where Azula had scorched him in the Crystal Catacombs; he didn't need another reminder of his failure in Ba Sing Se.

_I can't fail this time. Everyone's depending on me. _He thought about Katara, about the first time he'd seen her, when he'd come out of the ice. Hers had been the first face he'd seen in a hundred years. He remembered the way she smiled, soft and warm even as she'd pulled him from the frigid ice. _You're doing this to protect her, _he reminded himself. _The sooner this war ends, the sooner she'll be out of danger. _

Aang paused, sitting in the grass in his Fire Nation clothes, to think about how things might've been different if they'd triumphed in the Crystal Catacombs instead of failed. Would he have had more time to show Katara why they were perfect for each other? Would he have, in the presence of competition, been forced to grow up sooner so she might see him as an equal?

There was no way to know. Whatever had happened between her and Zuko, their feelings for each other were genuine enough. The monks had taught him not to interfere with other people's love lives—doing so was an expression of jealousy, which could only lead to negative feelings. If Zuko and Katara were happy together, then he had to let them be together, no matter how much it hurt.

_It's time to grow up, _Aang thought, standing up and looking out at the thriving city. _It's time to start acting like an adult. _


	55. Blood Lilies

Chapter Fifty-Five

"We'll check around, in case he didn't go straight to the palace," Sokka said, sliding off Appa's saddle. His father followed him, his face unusually grim. "Keep looking until you find him, or until it's clear that he's not at the capital. We'll be fine here."

Katara nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him once, hard, as if she was afraid this was the last time they were going to see each other. Then she released him, embraced their father, and climbed back into the saddle. "Be safe."

Sokka nodded, watching Appa shoot up into the sky. Then he turned to Toph. "Can your feet see anything?" he asked.

"A couple houses, in that direction." She pointed to the south. "Barely big enough for a village. I think we'll be able to handle whatever we find there."

Sokka nodded. "We'll split up, go door to door asking if anyone's seen a bald kid with a staff. Toph, I want you to walk around the rest of the island and use your seismic sense to look for Aang. Ty Lee, Suki, Dad, follow me." He started toward the cluster of houses Toph had pointed out, the others close at his heels.

"Sokka," Ty Lee said, voice low. "What do I do if someone recognizes me?"

He bit his lip, cursing himself for not considering that. He'd only intended to bring Toph and Suki with him—Toph because she was the best equipped to find someone who didn't want to be found, and Suki because she kept a level head in a confrontation. When Zuko had pointed out the fact that the people of the capital might recognize Ty Lee, his sister had suggested she join his crew. It hadn't occurred to him that someone might recognize her on this tiny island.

"I don't know," Sokka said, looking toward his father, wondering what he would do. His father volunteering to comb the islands with him had been a pleasant surprise, but the logic behind his decision had made sense: a more even split within their party meant that, should the worst happen, there would still be enough people left to face the Fire Lord.

In theory.

They reached the first of the dainty houses, and Sokka was surprised to realize how humbly these people lived, so close to the capital. The houses were built of shoddy wood, hacked off local trees and stacked together by untrained hands. Some shacks had palm trees as integral structural supports, where trunks made up one corner of the structure. And, like the insides of igloos in the South Pole, many of these houses had thick pieces of cloth instead of solid walls.

"This place looks so broken down," he murmured, wishing he hadn't separated from Toph so soon. She would've been able to give him a clearer idea of what lurked within those houses, whether it was a threat, or whether the shacks were as devoid of life as they looked from the outside.

He rested one hand on his Space Sword as he approached the nearest house. Silently, the others split up, each going to a different section in the miniscule village. He knocked lightly, worried that the rickety door would collapse in if he hit it too hard. When no one answered, he knocked again. "Hello? Is anybody in there? We're looking for somebody."

Behind him, he heard Suki, his father, and Ty Lee making similar calls as they knocked on different doors. Their voices, their movements, were the only sounds above the whispering waves.

_No one's answering, _he thought, lowering his hand and circling the shack, looking for a window. _Is the village abandoned?_

Perhaps it was his warrior's instincts, or perhaps it was a product of experience, but he sensed someone standing behind him right then. He half-turned, expecting to see one of his group. As he felt the rope wrap around his windpipe, a thought flashed through his mind, bizarrely coherent given the panic twisting through his gut: _Oh, great. We're getting captured again._

* * *

><p>They made landfall in record time.<p>

"I wish you well, my Lady," Iroh said, bowing deeply as Ursa jumped onto the docks. "I hope your reception at the palace is warmer than I expect."

Ursa nodded. Her hood was drawn close to her face, concealing her features from prying eyes. She didn't _think _anyone would recognize her after so many years, but it paid to be careful. "If it's not, I need you to orchestrate a movement to end this war," she said. _Without harming my daughter. _The words went unspoken, but as another wrinkle formed over Iroh's forehead, she knew he understood.

"I will do whatever I can."

She nodded, then dismissed her servant with a wave. The girl hesitated, unused to leaving her side. Ursa made a more insistent gesture toward the boat, not daring to speak again for the same reason she didn't dare show her face until she found Azula. Finally, her servant crawled back onto the deck, eyes shining with unshed tears as she bowed her head. "It has been an honor."

After a quick glance around to make sure no one was within easy hearing range, Ursa spoke. "Thank you for your service."

Ursa turned away and hurried down the docks, one hand clinging to her hood in an effort to further conceal her face. Her legs moved rapidly, muscle memory carrying her through the harbor district even as puffs of steam shot up from the ground around her feet. Before her banishment, before her marriage had started falling apart, Ozai had cautioned her to keep away from this part of the city. It seemed hideously ironic that the real danger now stemmed from the palace where she'd once been safe.

_Or perhaps I only _felt _safe there, _she thought, weaving through a crowd of fishermen heading toward the coast. They chortled, voices booming even in the early morning. One of them made a remark about how it was such a shame for pretty women to cover their faces, but it took her a moment to realize they were talking about her. _This is a different world from the one I left when I was banished, _she thought, almost tripping over a loose rock as she hurried down the dirt path. The city spread out before her, the metal buildings gleaming in the golden light of dawn, but it seemed wrong somehow, as if all the city's grandeur had evaporated, leaving only a mockery of the beauty she'd once seen here.

The city stank of oil and ash.

Ursa's legs were aching by the time she reached the edge of the caldera. As she looked over the ridge, into the rising sun, she paused. All the most important noble families had homes here, though few were occupied year-round, due to duties brought on by the war. Nestled in the center of the elegant mansions was the palace. Ursa could see the gardens from where she stood. This time of year, fire lilies bloomed all across Capital Island, concentrated in the fertile soil created by the volcanic activity beneath the surface. As her eyes swept over the massive outdoor garden, she was overwhelmed by the sea of red she saw.

She'd heard once that some of the more distant Fire Nation colonies called fire lilies by a different name. As she stared at the rippling waves of crimson, that name came flooding back to her. Blood lilies.

Ursa shivered and hurried down the ridge, heading straight for the palace. As an exiled princess, she knew a dozen secret passages in and out of the palace. Getting past the guards would be a simple task for her.

Getting an audience with her daughter would be considerably more difficult.

_I could walk up to the guards and have them arrest me for trespassing, _she thought. _Even if they thought I was lying about my identity, they would have to have someone check. Azula would have to come. _

Her teeth found her lower lip as she considered the pros and cons of that plan. If they chose not to inform Azula of her presence, she was risking her life for nothing. _No, _she thought. _The best way is to meet Azula face to face, where she doesn't expect me. _She squared her shoulders and strode toward the metal gates. As the guards came into view, she made a sharp turn, trying to appear as if she was heading to one of the nobleman's houses for a visit. No one paid her any heed as she hurried down the side streets, and when she was out of sight of the guards, she turned again toward the palace. There was a secret passage between the thirteenth and fourteenth gates, tying an apparently ordinary drainage ditch to the passages beneath the palace.

As she approached the secret entrance, something caught her eye. A small figure was moving across the garden, darting between hedges and stirring up bright red petals. Ursa watched him, standing on her tiptoes as if that would give her a better vantage point. When the boy reached the outer edge of the wall, he paused, glancing around. _A prankster? _she wondered, stepping forward. _Or an assassin? _

Seeming satisfied by the lack of onlookers, the boy looked up at the stone wall separating the imperial garden from the palace proper. He crouched low, resting one hand on the ground, then sprang twelve feet into the air.

_No one can jump like that, _she thought, gaping as he landed lightly on top of the stone wall. _It's impossible. It would take a master firebender to get that kind of propulsion, and I didn't even see a flame._

But then she saw the way the fire lilies rippled where the boy had jumped, the way the petals danced through the air around him, lifted by a wind that hadn't existed a moment ago. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Avatar had come to kill her daughter.


	56. Reasons for Peace

Chapter Fifty-Six

Sokka gave an uneasy laugh as the villagers circled them.

"What's the plan?" Suki asked, wriggling as if to free herself from the rope wrapped around their bodies. The villagers had tied them to a thick palm tree, and Suki had to admit that, for such an industrialized country, the Fire Nation sure knew how to tie good, old-fashioned knots.

"I don't know," Sokka whispered, his eyes flitting to the faces in the crowd. There were forty or so people, much more than Suki had expected for the number of houses. It was crowded enough, and the huts shoddy enough, that she started to wonder if this wasn't a village proper, but a camp of some sort.

Either way, the fact that she'd been captured at all hit her pride, hard. She craned her neck to look at Sokka. "You convinced the people Kyoshi Island to let you go. How is this any different?"

"Well," Sokka said through his teeth. "We kind of had the Avatar with us on Kyoshi Island. And it wasn't in hostile territory."

She lifted her head to look out at the villagers. Many of them were women and children, but a few were men with grizzled beards and more wrinkles than she had time to count. The collection of people was all too familiar to her._ Mothers, children, grandparents. These are the people left behind during a war. _"Sokka, you're charming."

"Uh . . . thanks, but I don't think this is the time—"

She shook her head. "That wasn't what I was getting at. Look at these people. What do you see?"

He lifted his eyes again, scanning the crowd more intently. His father did the same, though Suki had to squirm to see him, tied to the tree to her left.

Understanding dawned on Sokka's face. "Refugees."

She nodded, relaxing against the trunk so the ropes wouldn't bite at her skin. "Right. So think, Sokka. What do we have that they could want?"

"Supplies?" he said doubtfully.

"We don't have anything worthwhile. It has to be something else. Think hard," she added, as an elderly man broke free of the crowd and approached. With his scruffy white beard and bushy topknot, he reminded her a bit of Oyaji, back on Kyoshi Island. A pang of yearning shot through her at the thought of her old home. _Will Kyoshi Island someday become a cluster of refugee houses like this? _she wondered, biting her lip.

The elderly man studied them for a minute, his lips pressed into a thin line. He had an air of quiet dignity about him, lacking any of the playfulness she'd seen from the elders of Kyoshi Island. When he finally spoke, his voice was smooth but grave. "You are not of the Fire Nation."

_No, _Suki thought, bowing her head. _And none of us want to be. _

"We know," Sokka said, sounding abashed. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she might've chuckled at the obviousness of that statement. Of course they weren't Fire Nation. That was obvious to anyone who took a hard look at them. In fact, she was a little bit stunned that this was the first time anyone had really _noticed _their unusual group. She supposed the minimal exposure they permitted themselves within the Fire Nation was the reason they hadn't been noticed, but still.

The elderly man went on. "Then you must be spies for the Earth Kingdom."

Suki held her face very still, her stomach twisting into a knot. Oyaji had made a similar assumption when Sokka and his group had been captured on Kyoshi Island, and if it hadn't been for Aang revealing himself as the Avatar, they might've been executed as spies.

Did Sokka understand just how close they were to getting themselves killed? _One wrong word, and we're dead. _

Sokka raised his eyes, the striking blue color glinting in the morning sun. "We know what this must look like to you," he said. "But we're not spies, and we don't report to the Earth Kingdom. We're just a bunch of kids trying to stop this war."

The man's eyes hardened. "What do you children know of war? You think you can trespass in the Fire Nation without consequence because you're young? We have boys younger than _you _serving as soldiers."

Sokka nodded. "I know. And I know you all you all want this war over with."

"Don't presume—"

"I _know _you do!" Sokka nearly shouted. Suki flinched in surprise, heart jumping to her throat.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

His eyes flickered to her, desperate and scared and angry. Then he looked back at the man, his expression unchanged. "For a long time, I thought everyone from the Fire Nation was evil. I was childish and blinded by hatred, and it was just easier for me to believe that than to think of you as people. But then I started traveling. I started meeting people from the Fire Nation who weren't all bad, and then others who wanted this war to end just as much as I did. I _know _you can't be happy here, with your sons, your brothers, and your fathers off to war."

From the corner of her eye, Suki saw Hakoda close his eyes and bow his head.

Sokka continued, his voice softening. "Once, when I was training under Master Piandao, a nearby village almost burned to the ground. A meteorite had struck just outside the town, and everything was on fire, and I was sure the people were just going to scatter. But I was wrong. All the firebenders stayed to stop the flames from spreading." Admiration filled his voice, his eyes faraway as he recalled whatever had happened. Suki made a mental note to ask him about that later. If they survived.

Sokka went on. "The firebenders formed a sort of defensive wall around the village and held the flames at bay until they burned out on their own. Every one of those firebenders risked their _lives_ defending that one town from a natural disaster. It wasn't about honor, or glory. It was about protecting the people they loved.

"And I _couldn't _hate the Fire Nation anymore. I couldn't watch them risk their lives like that and think of them the same way. I couldn't look at them as faceless enemies in armor. Everyone here has a family, a life outside of this war, just like the people of my village." Sokka closed his eyes, taking a breath. "I don't hate the Fire Nation. I think you've all been taught that war is the only way to protect yourselves, but that's _wrong_. I know you all want to go home, and that you want people you love to come back into your arms. _That's _why the war has to end. And we can't end it if you won't let us go."

The white-haired man studied them for a moment, mustache twitching. "Do the rest of you have anything to say?" he finally asked.

Suki glanced at each of the others, and they glanced back. It seemed there was nothing _left _to say, nothing that could sum up their views better than Sokka's tale. They shook their heads and looked back at the elderly man.

He removed his hands from his sleeves and held them, palms up, out to the side. Fire flickered above both his palms, and for one split second, Suki thought he was going to burn away the ropes.

Instead, he said, "Bring the tinder. The spies are to be executed at midday."

* * *

><p>Aang shot to the top of the wall, heart racing as he used his airbending for the first time since landing in the city. <em>This is it, <em>he thought, crouching atop the stone wall and looking at the palace. Within the lush perimeter, a bleak stretch of rock wrapped around the palace. With guards posted at every door, a stealthy entrance was nigh impossible. _I should've just flown all the way here, _he thought. _It would've been easier than walking across the city, and faster. _

He hesitated atop the wall, unsure whether he should turn back before the guards saw him and try to find another way in or if he was close enough now to just blow by the guards and find the heart of the palace. _No, _he thought. _Maybe if Katara and the others were here to back me up, I could, but I can't risk barging in without a plan. A grown-up wouldn't do that. _

Frustrated, he swung his legs over the edge of the wall and, with another paranoid glance to make sure no one had appeared in the two seconds he'd been atop the wall, leapt down, bending the air beneath him to cushion his landing. Crimson petals danced in the air around him, proof of his airbending, and he cringed, waving his arms through the flurry as if that would erase the evidence of his presence.

_There has to be another way in, _he thought, pressing his back against the wall so he was concealed by the row of hedges clinging to the stone. _Okay, think. Where would there be a secret passage, and how do I get there without getting noticed? _He closed his eyes. If the others had been here, he would've consulted Zuko, then Sokka. Zuko because he'd lived in this palace long enough to learn a few ways in and out, and Sokka because he was the plan guy. _But they're not here, _he thought, heart quickening. _I'm on my own. _

A sharp sound pierced his eardrums, like the sound of a leaf being crushed underfoot. His body went still, eyes flying open as panic twisted through his chest. Had the guards seen him after all? _What if I'm imprisoned again? _he thought, his hand going to the scar Azula had given him in the Crystal Catacombs. _They won't let me out for anything this time. I'll never see the sun again. _

"Avatar?"

He whipped around, pinpointing the source of the voice. A woman with dark brown hair, wearing a red, hooded cloak, strode toward him. With the hood up, her face was concealed by shadows, unrecognizable. In an instant, his staff was in his hand, the end of it pointing straight for the woman's heart, as if it could actually harm her.

As if he could actually bring himself to kill a complete stranger.

"Who are you?" he demanded, hearing the way his own voice jumped with fear.

The woman paused, then pulled back her hood. "I am Zuko's mother."


	57. Disjointed Information

Chapter Fifty-Seven

"Hold on a second!" Sokka squeaked, recoiling from the flames and hitting the back of his head on the tree trunk. "I gave that heartfelt speech and you're going to execute us?"

The old man arched an eyebrow, as if he hadn't even considered the speech a factor in his decision. Children started carrying pieces of dry wood and straw to the tree he was tied to, and he threw a frantic look at his father, searching for guidance.

The warrior met his eyes, nodded once in approval of what he'd said, and turned to face the villagers again. _This is it? _Sokka thought. _Not fighting the Fire Lord, or bringing down the airship fleet? We're going to die by the hands of refugees? _

"Wait!" Ty Lee shouted. Sokka glanced back, shocked at the intensity in her voice. "You don't understand. _I'm _Fire Nation—I come from a noble family. If you kill us, you'll incur the wrath of the Fire Lord."

_This _caught the old man's attention. He held up a liver-spotted hand, and everybody stopped stacking kindling by their feet. "Explain," he commanded.

Ty Lee shrunk back, as if she hadn't anticipated a need to elaborate. Her grey eyes flitted to Sokka, and he stared back, praying she'd learned enough from living in a noble household to pick up more diplomacy than he had. "Well . . ." she began, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "My family holds a position close to the royal family. I can't return to them right now, but if you release us, I can consult with my father about improving conditions in refugee camps like this one."

_She sounds so . . . diplomatic, _Sokka thought, raising an eyebrow.

"Does this noble house of yours have a _name_?" the old man demanded.

Ty Lee hesitated, her grey eyes drifting to the sand at their feet. "Have you heard of house Huo?"

The man arched one narrow eyebrow. "House Huo? Didn't the lady of the house have septuplets fifteen years ago?"

Ty Lee grimaced. "Yes. Myself and my sisters. All identical."

The man's gaze sharpened. "And _your_ name would be?"

Any confidence the acrobat had left faltered then; she made a faint choking sound at the back of her throat. "My name . . ."

"Yes, girl, your name. I'm presuming you _have _one."

Sokka wanted to retaliate against the old man's tone when he saw the way Ty Lee's shoulders slumped. She'd seemed so reserved lately, compared to the bubbly girl he'd met in Omashu. He had wondered at the change when he'd first returned, and his worry had barely diminished at her strange, ecstatic reaction to his rejection. Now she seemed to go away inside, to someplace dark and empty and cold.

An indistinct murmur escaped her lips.

"Speak up, girl. Are you such a coward you cannot speak your own name?"

"Cut it out!" Sokka snapped, his protective instincts rising to the surface. Too many times, he'd seen the people he cared about get hurt—he wasn't about to let a total stranger make Ty Lee shrink back into whatever darkness had possessed her before. "She doesn't—"

Ty Lee's fingertips brushed the back of his hand, the closest contact they could manage, bound up as they were. Her bangs, almost three inches long now, shadowed her eyes, making her already grim expression look even bleaker. "My name is Ty Lee."

Shock flickered across the old man's face, replaced almost instantly by disgust. "Ty Lee, traitor to the Fire Nation and escaped war criminal." It wasn't a question.

Sokka bit his lip, wishing he'd had to foresight to predict this. Of course Ty Lee wouldn't want to reveal her name—that should've been as obvious as the fact that her betrayal would be public knowledge by now. Yet he hadn't anticipated this, hadn't been able to plan for it.

He saw the iron in the man's eyes and knew they were going to die. He closed his eyes and sent a prayer to Yue, hoping she'd be able to hear him, despite the moon being absent from the sky.

And Yue must've heard, because it was at that precise moment when Toph came crashing into the village.

* * *

><p>The declaration held him in place for a fraction of a second before he raised his staff. The woman's cocoa-colored eyes widened, her full lips parting as she took in his stance.<p>

_Zuko's mother? _he thought, every muscle rigid as he waited for her to react. Surely, if she had married the Fire Lord, being seen by her would only cause him problems. Since Zuko hadn't spoken of her at all during their daily training, Aang had to assume they were estranged, or that there was some dark history between them.

Yet the woman made no move to attack, nor did she try to summon the guards. If anything, the shock on her face resolved into disappointment.

"I don't want any trouble," Aang said, lowering the end of his staff a fraction of a degree. "But if you try to stop me . . ." He trailed off, hoping the threat was present enough in his voice that he wouldn't have to come up with something.

"Stop you from doing what?"

Aang hesitated, wondering at her reserved tone. He scanned the area, wondering if she'd somehow signaled the guards without raising her voice. No one else was nearby.

When he didn't answer immediately, the woman frowned. "If you're here to slay the Fire Lord, you've come too late. Ozai was assassinated days ago."

Shock coursed through him, like one of Azula's lightning bolts. His fingers tightened around the shaft of his glider, knuckles going white. "That's impossible!" he squeaked, wincing at the volume of his voice and glancing around to see if anyone had noticed them. "If Ozai's dead, why isn't the war over?" _She must be lying. She's probably not even Zuko's mother._

_But who is she, then? Why is she here, and why hasn't she called for the guards? She knows who I am—shouldn't she have tried to raise the alarm by now? Unless she's biding time. _He fidgeted, lowering his staff another fraction of a degree.

"The news has been kept largely private," the woman murmured, almost as if speaking to herself. "If it weren't for my informants, I wouldn't have access to this information either." She raised her eyes to his glider, her gaze probing. "Tazia gave that to you?"

The shock of a moment ago flared up again as he heard the familiar name. "How do _you _know Tazia?"

"She was my servant for many years. She was executed just recently, on suspicion of treason."

"Treason?" he echoed, eyes filling with tears as he understood. _Because she freed me. Someone found out and now she's . . . _His stomach did an odd little flip, and he doubled over, pressing the base of his staff into the ground to support his body.

"I must apologize," the woman began, the words coming fast, desperate. "I'm sure you're quite confused by all this, but you needn't concern yourself. Tazia died because of my orders, not because she freed you. And you were freed upon my orders, not by Tazia's choice."

"Wait," he said, holding up one hand, palm facing out. "Go back for a minute. Ozai was assassinated? How? By who? Who's in charge of the Fire Nation now?"

"In time, you will learn. But let's start with introductions. I know who you are, and I know what you've set out to do, but you do not know me. I told you I was Zuko's mother."

The flood of information—so much of it new, so much of it flying over his head as he struggled to fit the puzzle together while missing half the pieces—overwhelmed him so much that the only response he could formulate was a nod.

"I am . . . _was _married to Fire Lord Ozai, before he took the throne."

Facts, memorized from what little he'd gleaned about Fire Nation history in the time he'd been here, flitted through his mind, connecting some of the puzzle pieces together. "You're Lady Ursa. I heard about you, somewhere . . ." He thought he'd heard her name once or twice while he'd been imprisoned.

"That doesn't surprise me," Ursa said. "My banishment was quite the scandal."

"Banishment?"

She nodded. "I committed treason. My husband showed me mercy by allowing me to leave the Fire Nation unhindered rather than executing me as a traitor."

"I . . . But what are you doing here, if you're banished? And why did you order Tazia to free me? I don't understand at all!"

A sad smile crossed her lips. "No, I can't imagine you do. I can explain everything to you, if you'll join me for tea."

Aang hesitated, uneasy about being in the capital, knowing Sokka and Zuko would chastise him for going off with a stranger for tea, in the middle of Fire Nation territory. Yet this woman, if she was telling the truth, had much more information than he did. If she was truly on his side, she'd be a valuable ally.

He bowed his head, peering up at her to watch for any sign that she was about to attack. Instead, she returned the bow, holding her hands in the shape of a flame. "I accept," he said quietly.

She nodded back. "Then follow me, and I will tell you all you need to know."


	58. Mutual Needs and Friendship

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Sometimes, Toph wondered how her friends had survived so long without her.

A ridge of stone shot up from the ground, separating the bulk of the villagers from her captured companions. Shock rippled through the crowd, hearts racing, startled shouts piercing the air. Toph recognized the sound of panic—she'd heard it often in Gaoling, when her parents had freaked out over her frequent disappearances.

"Earthbender!" one of the villagers shouted, pointing in her direction.

_Yeah, how long did it take you to figure that out? _She stepped out from between the trees, taunting them with her proximity, and slid her right foot to the side. The raised ridge of dirt swept across the tiny village, uprooting trees and knocking the flimsy houses down. The people fled from the shifting mass, screaming and shooting fireballs at it as if that would keep it at bay.

The firebender threatening Sokka turned in her direction. Her seismic sense was just precise enough for her to perceive the downward curve of the man's lips as he took a firebending stance.

Toph pulled dozens of loose stones from the ground around her, letting them cling to her body like armor. Without a second thought, she charged the skinny firebender. _Fight back or get out of the way, _she thought, grinning beneath the layer of rock.

The man hesitated, arms dropping just a fraction of an inch. Toph accelerated, tearing up anything in her path. At the last second, the firebender threw himself to the side, out of the way.

Toph jammed her heel into the ground and lurched to a stop.

Sokka's voice hit her eardrums, muffled by the layer of rock. "Toph, you made it!"

"Hey, Snoozles," she said, flinging a rock toward a man scaling the stone ridge. He yelped and ducked back behind the wall. "I was going to come down earlier," she continued. "but you looked a little tied up."

"Hey, _I'm _the one who's supposed to make the bad jokes."

Toph smiled and slammed her heel into the ground, bringing a spire of stone up from the dirt. The sharp edge sliced through the ropes binding Sokka and Ty Lee to the tree, and the severed coils fell away. With another movement, she did the same for Hakoda and Suki. They pulled free, rubbing their abraded arms even as they gathered in a tight circle around her.

"Let's get out of here," Suki said.

At her side, Sokka nodded. "Right. I think I saw some canoes at the edge of the beach, if we can get there."

_Oh great, _Toph thought, following the others. _Boats. _

Most of the refugees had been pushed aside by her initial assault, so she only had to intercept a few on their way to the beach. Each ended up on the ground, wrapped up in a roll of condensed dirt.

She knew when they were getting close to the water because the sound of everyone's footsteps changed. Instead of the quiet hiss of sand being displaced by running feet, she now heard the repetitive slap of shoes hitting wet sand. She slowed, anxiety twisting up her stomach so it felt like she was about to throw up. When she felt the ocean lapping at her toes, she stumbled backward, desperate to find dry land again.

"Come on, Toph," Sokka called, perhaps a dozen feet away. She lifted her head at the sound of his voice, and when she focused, she could feel the shape of the canoe resting atop the soaked sand.

She edged closer to the edge of the beach, then drew back, terrified of getting in the water.

Suki murmured something in Sokka's ear, but her voice was too indistinct for Toph to make sense of the words. Her pulse thundered in her ears, roaring louder than the ocean in front of her. _I can't do it, _she thought, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes.

A moment later, she felt Sokka running toward her, water sloshing all around him as he approached. "Take my hand," he said, reaching for her.

"Huh?"

"We have to get out of here. Take my hand."

"What if the canoe tips over?" Her own voice was hardly audible, and for a moment, she was sure Sokka hadn't heard. Then, without warning, he scooped her up into his arms and started carrying her across the beach. Her fingers knotted in his shirt, holding on for dear life, and the rest of her body went still as she heard water splashing just below. Panic shot through her when she felt warm drops of water splashing against her face; she whimpered, pressing her nose against Sokka's shirt. _It's just water, _she chanted to herself. _Just water. Just like taking a bath._

She shuddered.

"Okay. You can let go now. We're on the boat."

It took a moment to process the words. Then, gingerly, she lowered herself into the canoe, still holding onto Sokka's shirt.

"Dad, help me push this out to sea."

There was movement all around her, accenting the uneven lilt of the waves. Her grip on Sokka's shirt tightened, and he needed Suki's help to pry her hands off. A moment later, the canoe lurched forward, and Toph shrieked, expecting them to sink beneath the waves. Suki wrapped her arms around Toph's shoulders, pinning her in place as the island vanished. The only thing Toph could feel was the flimsy wooden boat beneath her and the almost imperceptible churning of the ocean below.

"It's all right," Suki said, patting her back. Toph try to wriggle free, as Sokka and his father started paddling.

"Let go," she murmured.

"Don't worry, everything's fine."

"Let go! I'm going to puke!"

Suki's arms vanished as if they'd turned to air. Toph leaned over the side of the boat and promptly threw up, head spinning. As she retched, Ty Lee came up behind her and pulled her hair away from her face.

Toph decided that maybe she needed her friends just as much as they needed her. Maybe.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Sorry about the delay and the shortness of this chapter, but I just wanted you to know that the inspiration is flowing again, so you'll have another chapter in just a couple days. Thanks for your patience, and special thanks to anyone who chooses to review!_


	59. Dragons Breathe Fire

Chapter Fifty-Nine

"We'll meet you back here in three hours," Zuko said, watching Zou climb off Appa's saddle. "Sooner, if we find him. Try to get as much information as you can, even if it doesn't seem important."

The younger boy nodded and started running toward a cluster of houses. Zuko watched him go, wary, then tugged lightly on Appa's reins. "Yip yip."

The bison growled and shot into the air, seeming eager to get away from the Fire Nation city. Zou had claimed some of his best contacts were on this island; whether Zuko trusted him or not, it didn't matter. _Hopefully his desire to end the war will outweigh his hatred of me, and we can get some legitimate information. _

They flew fast, Appa soaring high above the Fire Nation, out of catapult range, slicing through crosswinds as if they weren't even there. Zuko kept a firm hold on the reins, trying not to think about how exhilarating it was to fly this way, or about the fact that less than half a year ago, he would've been trying to shoot this bison out of the air, not ride it into the Fire Nation Capital. _Everyone will think I'm crazy, _he thought.

He heard something shift behind him and glanced back to see Katara, poised at the front of the saddle, her shiny, dark hair rippling behind her. "How much farther to the capital?" she asked, shouting over the roaring wind.

"Not far."

"What's the plan once we get down there?"

He frowned, thinking. His uncle had always criticized him for not thinking things through—perhaps it _would _be better to go into this with some semblance of a plan. "Let me think about it."

Katara must've nodded, because she said no more for several minutes as they rocketed toward the royal palace. Zuko looked below, watching the sea pass beneath them and wishing he had a more concrete landmark to judge their speed by. They'd make good time—better than any Fire Nation aircraft—but he would've liked to know exactly how fast they were going, and it was hard to tell when they were flying above open water.

Eventually, he caught sight of a ridge of land in the distance and adjusted their course slightly, flying toward it.

"Is that it?" Katara asked from behind him.

"No, but it'll help us gain our bearings. You've still got that map?"

"Yeah. We're headed the right way. We dropped Zou at Ember Island."

He blinked rapidly and turned to her. "Ember Island?"

"Yeah. Didn't you see the big sign on the docks? It said 'Welcome to Ember Island, where you can burn your troubles away.'"

Zuko buried his forehead in his hands and groaned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Then, with more confidence, he said, "Nothing's wrong. I just . . . It's been a long time since I've been to Ember Island. I thought I'd recognize it." _Maybe if I'd been looking, I would've been able to see the beach house, _he thought, a pang of nostalgia nearly overtaking him. Ember Island had contained his few good childhood memories. It had been years since he'd been there. _I can't believe Zou's contacts would live there, _he thought. _And that means we're farther away than I thought. _"It doesn't matter now. We'll keep flying."

Silence prevailed once more, except for the occasional noise from Appa or the constant sound of wind whipping through their clothes and hair. More than once, Zuko looked back to see Katara leaning out of the front of the saddle, eyes focused on the horizon as if waiting for something to appear. Zuko continued his course for the narrow patch of land in the distance, hoping he'd be able to pinpoint their location more precisely if he recognized the island. As he drew close, though, a flicker of unease shot through him. Many of the islands in this region were resort areas, overflowing with tourists, vacation homes, and the only ships he saw anchored near this island were massive military ships. He frowned, adjusting his hold on the reins to make Appa fly lower. The bison gave a low groan of protest, but obeyed.

"Zuko, look!" Katara yelled. His head whipped around, searching for some airborne threat, but she was pointing down at the island, at a dense copse of trees. They flew even lower, sweeping over the forested area as he searched for the source of her alarm. When he saw metal glinting through the canopy, a cold dread washed through him.

"Should we land?" Katara asked.

Zuko considered that. Realistically, this was probably just a military base—not great news, but not something they really needed to check up on. Besides, they were on a tight schedule. Aang could be in the capital right at this moment . . . _And if he is, there's no way we'll even get close by the time he's in the palace. _

He looked back at Katara, considered sharing his grim thoughts, then turned back toward the island, flying lower in preparation to land. "Let's check it out."

He found a relatively safe place to land, though it took some careful maneuvering on Appa's part to keep them from getting caught in the trees. Distantly, he wondered how Aang did it. Was he just that used to the flying bison, or was it an airbender thing?

"Appa, stay here," Katara said, patting the bison's side as she slid onto the ground. "We'll be back in just a bit."

Zuko hopped down from the front part of the saddle, legs aching with the strain of sitting for over an hour. Every inch the sun rose meant they were losing time. For all he knew, Aang had been gone all night. _If that's true, he'll be in the city by now._

They moved quickly, cutting through the dense undergrowth with practiced, agile steps. If anything, Katara seemed even more adept at traveling on foot than he did. Within minutes, she was leading, and soon after, he was struggling to keep up. Yet he didn't ask her to slow down—there was no time, in the next few days, to slow down, and definitely not at this particular moment. Assuming Aang hadn't reached the capital, yet.

Assuming he'd still be alive when they found him.

Zuko picked up the pace.

After what felt like fifteen minutes of walking, Katara pointed out a metal shape through the trees. Zuko hurried to her side, groaning when she started walking toward it without him, then started examining the machine as they drew near.

Horror washed through him, bitter cold as the North Pole had been. Because there was no denying, upon closer inspection, what this was. There was no reasoning away its purpose, or trying to see a bright side to its existence.

"Whoa." The word came out in a breathless whisper, and he realized that Katara was just as stunned and horrified as he was. Zuko had heard Suki, Ty Lee, and Sokka discussing rumors of an airship fleet. He'd expected to see something slightly larger and tougher to destroy than his old war balloon. But this . . .

Katara turned to him, her blue eyes wide, frightened. "What is it?"

"Part of the airship fleet."

"Only _part _of it?"

"It probably looks worse than it is." _Hopefully_. "Most likely, the Fire Nation is waiting until Sozin's Comet to use these. The question is, what are they going to do with them?"

Katara frowned, approaching the oblong mass and running her fingertips over the off-white canvas. "It's like a giant war balloon, but protected by steel."

"And a lot more deadly. Look." He headed to the middle of the ship, where the bulk of the steel gondola sat. A childhood in the Fire Nation had made such setups familiar to him, and he understood the purpose of the empty steel circles at once. "These things are going to be carrying bombs, and lots of them. It wouldn't even take five airships to bring down Ba Sing Se, if they were properly staffed and stocked."

"But Ba Sing Se is already lost."

"I know," he said, thinking back to the Crystal Catacombs. He'd managed to produce lightning for the first time there, and it still hadn't been enough to defeat his sister. _It'll never be enough. Azula always wins. _"I know that, I'm just saying. This isn't good." _And what could they be attacking, since they've already taken over Ba Sing Se? _

He froze, the thought echoing in his mind, over and over, like a discordant symphony. "No way," he murmured, running toward the front of the ship. Princes were required to know a little bit about everything when it came to the war, so he knew enough to know that these ships would have some means of facilitating firebending.

And with them sitting here, near the edge of the Fire Nation, he could only presume they were going to be used during the comet.

"No, no, no . . ." he said, hearing the distress in his own voice and doing nothing to stop it. There was a structure at the front of the ship, in the shape of a dragon's head. At the front of an ordinary ship, the sole purpose of such a structure would've been to intimidate the enemy. But already, he could see a metal hatch, hidden within the steel dragon's mouth, the platform where a firebender could stand and, with their comet-enhanced abilities, shoot a torrent of fire down to the ground. "Oh, no."

"Zuko, what is it?" Katara demanded, catching up to him.

"This dragon breathes fire."

"What?"

He quickly explained how the mechanics of this ship could only have been crafted to house a comet-enhanced firebender. Her face fell, her eyes getting wider as her lips parted in disbelief. Katara didn't hide her fear. She faced it, and she lived with it, but she didn't hide it.

When he was done explaining, Katara turned back to the airship, arms limp at her side, head tilted back as if to take in the enormity of what they faced. "But what could they use it for? The war's practically over already, since they took Ba Sing Se."

"No," he whispered, realization hitting him like an expertly-thrown dagger. "The war's not over. They're going to burn down the Earth Kingdom first."


	60. Sphere of Influence

Chapter Sixty

_All those people_.

That was the first thing Katara had thought when Zuko had said they were going to burn down the Earth Kingdom. _All those people_. Aunt Wu, Toph's family, Haru and his family, Jet's gang, and countless others, all doomed to be roasted to death during the comet. She'd said as much to Zuko.

That had been over an hour ago.

Now, the Fire Nation Capital was in sight, glinting on the horizon like a red gem in a gold setting. Her stomach churned, bile clawing its way up her throat even as she tried to swallow it back. Zuko sat at the front of the saddle, holding the reins and urging Appa faster as they shot toward the city. Toward Aang.

_It's our only chance, _she thought, instinctively reaching for the water-skin at her hip. She could feel the water sloshing around, feel it like a phantom limb. _Getting Aang back is the only way we're going to defeat the Fire Lord before the comet. We can sent Toph to metalbend the airships before they take off. _

They flew over the Great Gates of Azulon before the firebenders in charge had a chance to ignite the netting. Appa growled, picking up speed as a wave of heat crashed into them from behind. They were flying so fast now, it almost felt like they were out of control, like a meteor streaking through the sky.

"Appa, slow down," she yelled, praying the bison would understand her. Appa groaned again, leveling out as they flew mere feet above the uniform rooftops of the outlying districts. Still, she could feel the wind raking through her hair and burning her eyes. It felt almost as if she was staring down the throat of a dragon as it breathed fire at her.

Just like the airship fleet would if they didn't stop the Fire Nation before the comet.

In front of her, Zuko shifted, becoming more alert, ready to fight. She leaned forward, peering over his shoulder. A vast, three-tiered building sat in the middle of a barren circle of stone. Dividing the empty ring from the lush, flowering gardens was a stone wall tall enough to deter any passing stranger.

They had reached the palace.

* * *

><p>Steam rose from the tiny cup, like fog after a storm.<p>

"Before I answer your questions," Ursa said, kneeling at the table and picking up her cup of ginseng tea. "I want to ask you something."

The Avatar tensed, then nodded. "Okay . . ."

"You've been traveling with my son for a while now, at least long enough to know how he's doing. I wanted to know . . . if he seemed happy."

Aang blinked rapidly, obviously thrown off-balance by the question. "Well . . . He's . . . He's not chasing us around the world anymore, so I guess he's not as angry as he used to be." He lowered his voice. "He joined us during the fight for Ba Sing Se, but I was taken prisoner, and we actually only started training together recently."

Ursa nodded. Zou had found time to send a letter from the Eastern Air Temple, when he and the water tribe boy had found the Avatar. He'd sent a second letter a few days after that, to say he'd encountered the rest of the group, including Zuko. _Not enough time for the Avatar to master firebending, _she thought, eyes flickering up to the air nomad's face as she sipped her tea. She'd chosen a nondescript place near the edge of the city, well away from the palace and its guards. She'd never been here for herself, but she found the quaint sitting rooms and private tables quite useful for this conversation. As long as she kept her voice low and her hood up, no one was likely to intrude.

"I see," she said, stirring her tea with the tiny spoon they'd provided for her. "I'm glad he seems less angry." _Though he was never so bitter when I was at the palace, _she thought, the weight of Zuko's struggle settling on her shoulders. She'd kept track of him over the years, just as she'd kept track of Azula, and of Ozai, and though she couldn't wait to see Zuko again, she wasn't sure he felt the same about her. _Of course not. How could he interpret what happened as anything short of parental abandonment?_

"Um," Aang said, pulling her back into the present moment. "You said you were going to explain what's going on?"

"Yes." She took a breath, gathering up all the facts in her mind and sorting through the most important so she could tell them in an order that would make sense to the young boy. "Let's start with what happened after the fall of Ba Sing Se."

The Avatar winced, but said nothing.

"Azula took you prisoner, yes?" She waited for a response. When Aang nodded, she went on. "And she put you in one of the highest security prisons in the Fire Nation, where they intended to keep you alive until such a time as you could be disposed of without your reincarnation causing great havoc for the Fire Nation."

"That sounds about right."

"I found out about your imprisonment from one of my informants—I have a lot of them in this city, and many others scattered around the Earth Kingdom. I even have a few in each of the water tribes."

Alarm flickered in the boy's eyes, and his fingers tightened around his cup of tea, but he kept silent, listening. _Good, _she thought. _He's decided to trust me enough not to make an issue of this. _

"My intention was to covertly slow the progress of this war, so the Earth Kingdom might have a chance to catch up and achieve victory. I knew that if the war didn't end, both my children would end up like Ozai." _Cold and broken and power-hungry, _she added mentally, though she couldn't manage to say such a thing aloud. Saying it made it real. "So I worked for years to undermine the Fire Nation, cutting supply lines, feeding certain groups false information, gathering information that my little birds then transferred to the Earth Kingdom. Because of my previous station, I could not operate openly in the Earth Kingdom, just as I could not operate here because too many people knew my name, my face. So when my birds told me of your return, I was understandably excited."

This earned a small smile from the Avatar, but it vanished quickly, his face turning stoic, refusing to give anything away. For a thirteen-year-old boy, it wasn't a bad attempt at seriousness.

"It didn't take me long to realize that you and my son were on a collision course with each other. I . . . I must apologize for this. I had my little birds spread some rumors to help him track you, when it looked like he wouldn't be able to find you for himself. Please understand, I didn't mean for him to bring you back to Ozai—I was trying to set him on a path that might lead him to sympathize with you. I knew you'd eventually need a firebending teacher, and I'd hoped . . ." She faltered. "I'd hoped that you would, in turn, be able to teach Zuko something of the childhood he missed. All my accounts say you had a playful outlook on life."

"But why? Couldn't you have just met with him and explained how you were planning on stopping the war?"

She bowed her head. "Not at the time. Aang, there are many shades of gray in this world, whether you wish to believe it or not. No person—not even Ozai—can be classified as all bad, or all good. Much of what you see relies on your point of view, and your own experiences. So I can see how being tracked halfway across the world and back would be quite a trial for you, and I understand that you would be . . . skeptical, regarding my intentions in assisting my son. But as I said, I want to end this war _for _my children. As their mother, my devotion to them is absolute. Back then, I truly believed that was the best course of action."

Aang sat back, then lifted his cup of tea to his lips. The taste seemed to surprise him, and he asked, "Is this ginseng?"

"Yes. It's a favorite of the Fire Nation. I think I taste a bit of mint in this, too." She took another sip to be sure, then nodded. "Yes, that's mint. You can tell from the aftertaste."

"Hmm. I've never had ginseng with mint." The Avatar frowned, eyebrows coming together, then set the cup down. "Okay, so you sent your informants out to talk to Zuko, but I've never heard him mention _you_. Didn't he try to get in contact with you?"

A sad smile graced her lips. "Perhaps. But not through my informants. I was careful never have the same person meet him more than once, and if they followed my orders, which I'm sure they did, they would not have said anything to give my involvement away. Most of them didn't even know I was the one giving the orders. I have kept myself well-hidden over the past few years."

"Okay . . . So, why are you suddenly becoming more active now? I mean, you couldn't have been in the Fire Nation all this time, if what you're saying is true."

"That's correct. Much of the time, I was in the Earth Kingdom, though I did have a cottage on one of the more remote Fire Nation territories, which is technically against the terms of my banishment. When I wasn't in the Earth Kingdom or at the cottage, I was traveling, meeting with the few contacts who knew me personally. I met Tazia a few times, in that first year. Before Ozai banished me, she was my senior handmaiden."

"Wait a second. _Ozai _is the one who banished you? Weren't you married to him? Why would he do something like that?"

"Because I committed treason. I assassinated the previous Fire Lord, right after I forced him to change his will to make Ozai heir to the throne. I did it because Fire Lord Azulon was much more cunning, more adept at leading a war. If he had remained in power, I have no doubt the Fire Nation would've triumphed by now." There had been other reasons, of course, most of them directly tied to the welfare of her children, but that seemed like the simplest explanation. "But if Ozai had spared me because I was his wife, it would have made him look weak. In fact, he did show mercy on me—instead of being executed, as I should have been, I was banished. Although, in all honestly, I fled the Fire Nation before the banishment process was even complete. By the time he signed the papers, I was settling down in the Earth Kingdom, near Makapu village. When the Fire Nation came to claim territory in that area, my travels began in earnest, and my plan to stop the war began to take shape. I contacted Tazia first, then spread my influence through her, to others I could trust. Councilors, merchants, peasants, refugees, soldiers . . . My influence spread all across the world, always underground, always heard in whispers and rumors rather than battle cries. While Ursa of the Fire Nation had disappeared, the leader of the underground resistance moved her pieces into place."

"And you said before that you'd sent Tazia to free me from that prison."

She nodded, trying to smile despite the tightness in her throat. The corner of her lip trembled. "Yes. I sent Tazia. I think of all my birds, she was the most reliable, the most useful. All the information I could want from the royal court flew to me through messenger hawks. Being a servant, Tazia was permitted almost everywhere, yet overlooked, unnoticed by everyone outside her immediate circle. When I lost her . . ." She exhaled slowly, struggling to remain in control of herself. Her vision blurred, eyes burning with unshed tears, and she had to look away. "I apologize," she said, voice quavering as she searched her robes for a handkerchief. "It was hard news, and still quite fresh in my mind. If I could just take a minute . . ." She trailed off, still frantically searching for her handkerchief.

A flutter of white in her peripheral vision drew her attention. She blinked, a pair of tears rolling down her face as she looked at the offered napkin.

"I think I understand now," Aang said, as she took the cloth napkin from his hands and wiped her eyes. "I didn't, at first. I thought you had to have some goal, something waiting for you, if you ended this war. But I understand now. All this fighting, all this suffering . . . it affects the Fire Nation, too. You really are doing this because you want to make the world a better place."

Ursa nodded, scrubbing away the last of her tears. "You are wise to realize that. It can be very difficult, when someone faces trials as you have, to accept that your enemy is suffering just as much. But I am glad you understand."

"We'll stop this war," Aang said, smiling with such childlike certainty that Ursa couldn't help but smile back. "I don't know how yet, but we will."

"I can tell you how," she said, lifting her head. "But you can't do it alone. You have to bring me to Azula."


	61. Decision

Chapter Sixty-One

"Take you to Azula?" Aang echoed, a ghost of his smile still lingering even as the words catapulted his mind back to that dark prison he'd been left to rot in.

"I understand your reservations," Ursa said, lifting one hand, palm out, as if the gesture would quell the storm raging in his gut. "But I think I can reason with her."

"She's _insane_!" he nearly yelled. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "No offense."

"It's hard to believe from your perspective, I know. I can't even begin to imagine the scars she's left you with. Azula has always been more . . . Well, I suppose it's fair to say she's always been crueler than her brother, but much of that was her father's influence. If you can just get me to the throne room so I can talk to her, I'm sure I can calm her down. Ozai was assassinated just a few days ago—Azula will be grieving, looking for guidance. I'm her _mother_, she has to listen to me."

Aang leaned back, lifting both hands in a more frantic version of the calming gesture Ursa had used a moment ago. "There's no way I can do that! Look, I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm not even sure I could take _Zuko _in a fair fight, let alone _her_."

"But I'm not asking you to fight. The only thing I need from you is to get me into the throne room. There will be guards, including those Dai Li agents that she picked up in Ba Sing Se, but as soon as I find her, you can go back to your friends. Please." She bowed her head, laying her hands on the table between them. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper. "Please. You're the Avatar. You're supposed to give people hope. All I've done, I've done for my children. At least give me this chance to make things right with Azula."

He froze, every instinct telling him to refuse, to claim the risk was too great and fly out of here. He'd come to face the Fire Lord, but if Ozai was dead, and he'd be up against Azula, he'd need time to reconsider his approach. He knew more about Azula's skills, enough that taking time aside to plan—like an _adult_, as he'd decided to emulate—could make the difference between victory and defeat.

And yet . . . How could he deny Ursa her hope? How could he walk away when he was her only chance to see her daughter again? And if she was right, and Azula _could_ be swayed, the war could be over before the sun went down.

"I don't know how to deal with this," he finally said, holding his head in his hands. "I can't think. It's all too complicated."

Ursa sat back, seeming to retreat within herself. She set aside the napkin she'd used to wipe her tears, her face becoming still and unyielding as stone. "Avatar, this war has gone on for a hundred years in your absence. Even if I cannot sway my daughter to end it without further bloodshed, it is your duty to at least try. The balance of the world cannot be preserved if the Fire Nation destroys the Earth Kingdom."

"Wait a second. 'Destroy the Earth Kingdom?' Where did that come from? The Earth Kingdom fell when Ba Sing Se did."

Uncertainty flickered across Ursa's face. "You mean you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

All the blood drained out of her face, leaving her skin papery white. "No, of course you don't know," she whispered. "How could you, when you don't have access to all the information from the palace?"

He edged back warily. "What don't I know?"

Ursa raised her head, eyebrows pinched together in dismay. "They're going to burn down the whole Earth Kingdom, Aang. Every village, every port, every field."

"But that's impossible. If they could do that, they would've done it already." He threw his hands up in the air, then froze as something occurred to him. A bead of sweat gathered at the back of his neck. "Oh, no. You don't mean . . ."

"Sozin's Comet. It increases any firebender's natural abilities a hundred times over. When it comes to pass, the Fire Nation will take the airship fleet and fly over the Earth Kingdom and burn everything to the ground. And there's no coming back from that level of devastation."

"Oh." He lifted a hand to his heart and felt it pounding just beneath his ribs. "Oh," he said again, unable to come up with any way to articulate the sickening dread churning in his stomach.

He hadn't realized how close Sozin's Comet was until that moment. Hadn't realized how much the world stood to lose if this war didn't end _now_. "I thought . . ." he began, then trailed off, numb. _What _was _I thinking? How could I have kept training and not even considered what would happen if I failed? _

He tried to think back, reason through his faulty logic. Somehow, he'd assumed, after Tazia had freed him from his prison, that things were going to get better for the world as a whole. He'd assumed that he'd face the Fire Lord—Fire Lord _Ozai_, who had apparently been assassinated _days_ ago—with the help of his friends and allies. He'd assumed he'd have Katara at his side to fight the Fire Nation, instead of going in alone, exactly as he'd done after seeing her kiss Zuko last night.

_How could I be so stupid? _he wondered. _There's no way I could've faced the Fire Lord alone. And I definitely can't fight Azula either. Even with everyone working together under Ba Sing Se, we couldn't do it. How am I supposed to beat Azula one-on-one when I can't even defeat her with everyone helping? _His mind spun as he realized just how gravely he'd misjudged the situation. _I should've never come here alone. I should've talked to the others and tried to find some way to undermine the Fire Nation without having a direct confrontation with Azula or the Fire Lord. But I couldn't see any of that because I thought _I _was supposed to be the hero. _

Aang thought about what Ursa had said earlier, about there being many different shades of good and evil, and about how everyone was somewhere in the middle. Yes, according to everything he'd been told since waking up in the iceberg, he was supposed to be the hero. Yet he'd failed, let the world down over and over again—a hundred years ago, when he'd run away, and then once more at Ba Sing Se.

_And if I fail this time, it's all over. _

"Aang? Aang, are you all right?"

Ursa's voice cut through his reverie, and he looked up, sick to his stomach. "No. I'm not all right. This is _awful_. How am I supposed to stop something this big?"

"That's why I need you to take me to Azula as soon as possible. She'll listen to me. And I can get you into the palace. The reason I need you there is to deal with any guards we encounter between the secret passages and the throne room."

"What makes you think Azula will be in the throne room?"

"The Fire Lord's presence is required in the throne room whenever they're not busy with other work. She'll be there."

Aang paused, letting that sink in. It seemed so strange to think that Azula was Fire Lord now, so strange to put a face to the title he'd only considered in general terms. It was almost as if the title of Fire Lord had symbolized the war itself.

_If there's any way to stop Azula, I have to try, _he thought. _No matter how unlikely it seems, this could be the thing that ends the war. And the war has to end _now,_ before the comet comes. _

He sighed, shoulders slumping. "All right. I'll do it. But as soon as you find Azula, I'm getting out of there. I need to find my friends and make sure we have a backup plan."

Ursa nodded, picking up her tea cup and downing the last of her drink before standing. Aang did the same, hoping the tea would settle his stomach. "I'll show you to the secret passage," she said. "Follow me."


	62. Hallucinations and Encounters

Chapter Sixty-Two

"This passage leads straight to the bunkers," Ursa said, leading the Avatar through the sewers with as much dignity as she could manage. These sewers had been specially constructed so a person could walk upright, unimpeded, all the way in or out of the palace. Historically, it had been used as an escape method during the attempted siege of the Fire Nation Capital three hundred years ago.

"Bunkers?" the Avatar repeated. She glanced back at his puzzled expression.

"Yes. For solar eclipses, like the Day of Black Sun."

Aang shrunk back, clutching his glider closer to his chest. "Oh."

Her maternal instincts commanded her to comfort him—the depression in his voice was almost palpable. Her little birds had kept an eye on his group of friends after the fall of Ba Sing Se, and of course, Tazia had informed her of the attempted attack on the Day of Black Sun. _What must it be like, _she wondered. _to be trapped, unable to fight back on the one day where it could've made a difference? _

"Your presence wouldn't have changed anything," she said, acting on her maternal impulse, trying to comfort him. "If anything, you would've been in greater danger there. The Fire Nation was ready for the attack."

"I know. Katara told me that, but . . ." The boy sighed. "I should've been there anyway."

"You may have the power to save the world, but you can't face down the entire Fire Nation army on your own. The key to victory is choosing your battles wisely." That was something they'd taught her in the Royal Fire Academy, and it was one of the few bits of knowledge they'd dispensed that she believed absolutely.

The passage narrowed. Ursa kept her head down, moving faster now as they drew closer to the secret entrance. "The palace is full of windows. As soon as I find Azula, you're free to leave. A blast of air should be sufficient to shatter the glass."

"Okay. Are you sure you want to do this, though? It seems really dangerous."

"Azula is my daughter. She won't harm me."

The corridor went silent except for the distant rush of water and their own footfalls. When they reached the secret entrance, she glanced back at the Avatar, slowing. "You will play your part after this war is over. I must play mine now, regardless of the danger."

Aang nodded. "All right. Let's go."

Ursa opened the metal door and entered the palace proper.

* * *

><p>"You betrayed Long Feng," Azula said, pacing along the dais as several dozen Dai Li agents stood before her. "How can I know you won't do the same to me?"<p>

One of the agents stepped forward, kowtowing before the throne. Her eyes flickered back to him, annoyed. "Fire Lady Azula, please, we are your loyal servants. You are a much worthier master than Long Feng, and we are honored to serve you."

Her eyes narrowed, and the line of fire separating her platform from the Dai Li glowed bright blue under her control. "Honor? I have lived in the Fire Nation my entire life—I know more about honor than any Earth Kingdom spawn. How _dare _you insult my intelligence by insinuating that I have no concept of loyalty?"

The man spoke quickly, floundering his words. "Princess, I meant no disrespect—"

"It's _Fire Lady_, not 'princess.' And if you betrayed one leader, you'll betray another. You are _all _banished from the Fire Nation. Permanently. You have twelve hours to pack your belongings and leave this country, or I will personally hunt each and every one of you to the ends of the earth, just like my brother hunted the Avatar."

Alarm flickered across the man's face, but he said no more, bowing his head and retreating from the room. The rest of the Dai Li followed him in orderly rows. Azula couldn't help but notice the haste with which they moved. Certainly faster than they'd moved trying to get to the throne room. _If there had been an actual emergency, I could've been killed. I was right to send them away. _

"They were useless, anyway," Mai said, suddenly standing at her side. Azula kept her face forward, not acknowledging the other girl's presence. She'd noticed the strange way people looked at her when she addressed the voices in her head—as if they disapproved her debates—and she'd learned to avoid calling attention to those voices until she was sure others could hear them.

Mai went on, in the same bored tone she'd used when alive. "And we all know you have no use for useless things, do you, Azula?"

She returned to her throne, sinking into the massive chair without a word. Mai stayed by her side, staring at the row of fire with disinterest. That was the nice thing about Mai—she seldom spoke unless addressed, and when she did speak, the words carried meaning.

Since there was no one else in the room, Azula decided it was safe to respond to Mai's words. "That's right. Everyone in my family was useless. My brother, my mother, even my father. That's why I'm here, and they're not."

"You still have Zuko to worry about."

Her lips twisted into a snarl. "Yes, Mai. I'm sure we're all very _concerned _about Zuko. Especially _you_. ButI have duties to attend to."

"Like what, Azula? Banishing everyone in the palace? Sending Ty Lee to prison again? Or do you prefer to spend your days throwing little girls to the guards like scraps of meat?"

"I had those guards banished," she grumbled, fingers tightening on the edge of the chair.

"For all the wrong reasons," Mai said, leaning down so her lips were at Azula's ear. Her breath was wintry, and stank of rotting fish. "And you know that, don't you? That you would've turned a blind eye to all of it, as long as you'd gotten your way."

"Shut up!" Azula leapt to her feet, facing the other girl down. "Shut _up, _or I'll burn you to bits, just like I did before."

"Oh right," Mai said. "I remember now. You prefer toasting your underlings until their bodies are no longer recognizable. Like me, or that little handmaid you killed. What was her name again? Ming La? No, something else. Ta Ming? No, that wasn't it."

"I don't know and I don't care! I was showing her _mercy._"

"Mercy?" Mai scoffed. "Well, in that case, I suppose it's a miracle you showed me mercy, too. After all, spending another minute with you would've been unbearable torture."

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, _shut up!_"

"Burning to death really is the more palatable option, compared to dealing with you."

She flung a fireball at the black-haired girl, but before it hit her, she vanished, turning insubstantial as smoke. Azula drove a fist through the air where Mai had just been standing. Blue fire erupted from her knuckles, licking the fire-resistant floor with little effect. She growled in frustration, her efforts made meaningless by the trappings of this room. "Wretched girl," she muttered, pacing across the dais, clutching her head. "Why didn't I burn her sooner? Useless. She was useless, just like everyone else."

The throne room fell silent except for the quiet whisper of flames. Azula wandered back to the throne, sinking into the cushion and closing her eyes, hoping everyone would just go away, just for a minute, so she could rest. Instead, she heard a series of crashes outside the throne room, like furniture toppling over. This was followed by several metallic _clanks. _

"What now?" she groaned, opening her eyes. _I bet it's those incompetent guards. Of course it is. I'll have to hire another new batch, with enough brains not to let someone infiltrate the palace. _

The chaos continued, shouts of alarm joining the cacophony of splintering wood and breaking furniture. Hopefully someone would deal with this before she had to leave her chair. Her mother had kept her up all night, going on and on about how much she loved her, of how she regretted calling her a monster so many years ago. When her mother had finally gone away, Ty Lee had taken her place, filling her ears with incessant chatter. Since Ty Lee had just recently started appearing to her, Azula assumed she had died. After all, that was what had happened to Mai, and that was almost certainly what had happened to her mother. _Yes, dead. They're all dead. I'm the only one left except for Zuko, and once I finish him, I win. _

The commotion outside stopped, and she sighed in content. _Finally, peace and quiet_.

"Azula."

She shot to her feet, eyes zeroing in on the source of the voice, the face peering around the edge of the door. Her mother stepped inside, a smile crossing her soft features. Azula scowled. "What do you want, _Mother_? I'm busy running the Fire Nation."

Something like shock flickered across the woman's face, and her smile faltered. Azula glared at her, annoyed. She'd told her mother dozens of times last night that she needed her sleep so she could run the country. Couldn't her mother take a hint? _And to think she was so obedient when Father was in charge._

"Azula, I've come to help you. If you'll just listen, I can explain everything."

"I've already heard all your explanations. 'Oh, Azula, I really _do _love you. You were always the greatest daughter. I always preferred you over Zuko.' Did you think I'd believe all that?"

Her mother's face went pale. "Azula, sweetheart . . . I do love you, but I don't believe I've ever said those things. I loved you and Zuko _equally_."

"You loved Zuko more! I know you did!" she screamed. "You sang to him and held him and told him you loved him—and then you had the nerve to call me a _monster_." Her voice broke, and the sound of it reminded her of who she was. _That's right, _she thought. _I'm Fire Lord now. Fire Lords don't cry, and they don't break down. _She squared her shoulders, her voice turning to ice. "Isn't that right, Mother? You loved Zuko more than you loved me. Just admit it, Mother. You thought I was a monster. Go on. Say it. I don't care."

"_Azula_! What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into me?" she echoed, laughter bubbling up at the back of her throat. "Don't pretend you don't know. I've told you, night after night, everything that's gone wrong, but you won't go away." She clutched her head in frustration. "You won't go away . . . I'm going to get rid of you once and for all."

Shock and confusion broke out across her mother's face. _No, not my mother. She's just a ghost, like Mai. She'll disappear; she's good at disappearing. _

Ursa spoke again, in that same maternal tone she'd used ever since she'd started showing up alongside all the real people. "It's been years. I only wanted to see my daughter again." Tears glimmered in her eyes. _Disgraceful. Weak. Just like Zuko. _

"I don't have time for this," Azula said, stepping forward and shooting a fireball in her hallucination's direction. _She's just a fake, it doesn't matter. She's not real, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter . . . _

Blue light danced across the walls. The fake Ursa flung herself to the floor, covering her head. When the flames raked across the back of her cloak, she cried out, crawling away from the heat.

Azula paused, disquiet echoing through her. _Why didn't she disappear? Why is her cloak burnt on the back? She should've disappeared like Mai. Unless she's not like Mai. _

_Unless she's really here. _

Azula stepped forward, throat closing up. Her eyes stung, vision blurring. It felt as if the floor beneath her feet had turned to smoke. "Mom?"


	63. Contemplating Patricide

Chapter Sixty-Three

"Why are you bringing those?" Katara asked as Zuko pulled his dual blades from his traveling pack. His lips were set in a flat line, his golden eyes narrow.

"A precaution," he said, climbing off the saddle. They'd landed in the palace gardens, leaving the Appa concealed behind several rows of hedges, but Katara could still see tufts of fur sticking up above the flattened plants.

"Precaution for what?"

"My father would be able to dispel any fire I could throw at him. I might need these in order to kill him."

He said it so simply, as if the thought of patricide didn't even faze him. Katara glanced away, a lump rising in her throat even as she tried to remind herself that Ozai had to die. They stood to lose too much if he stayed in power. They'd _already _lost so much in the war, and with Sozin's Comet so close, the damage was only going to get worse. She knew all that, of course she did, but . . . "Do you want me to do it?"

Zuko looked at her blankly. "Huh?"

"It's just . . . You don't have to be the one to kill Ozai. I could . . ." She trailed off, letting the offer hang in the air, unspoken.

Zuko regarded her, still holding onto his black swords. He hadn't had much chance to use them since he'd gone with Sokka to visit Master Piandao. After the invasion had failed, they'd been confiscated, and it had only been through Toph's seismic sense that he'd gotten the blades back. "No." He slid the swords together and slipped them into the leather sheath. "If Aang can't do it, then I have to." He looked down. "The Fire Nation has a different set of values than the rest of the world. You probably consider patricide one of the worst crimes anyone can commit. But . . . I don't know. The Fire Nation values power almost as much as it values honor, and we have to stop this war any way we can. There's a chance we can salvage the situation even if I were to . . ." His golden eyes flickered up to her face.

She looked away.

"I wouldn't blame you for thinking badly of me," he said, walking past her. "But if it comes to that, I have to end it. Have to end _him_. Even if it doesn't go like I expect, and we end as fugitives, the chaos should damage his plans for the comet."

Katara nodded, fingertips brushing over her water skin in an almost unconscious gesture. _This isn't the time for second thoughts, _she told herself, as Zuko led her to a metal grate near the garden path.

"Help me lift this up," he said, kneeling by the grate. Katara came around the other side and wrapped her hands around the iron bars. They pulled upward, hefting the chunk of metal to the side and sliding it onto the grass. Zuko peered down the drain, then swung his legs over the edge and dropped down. Her heart jumped, as if she'd gotten zapped by one of Azula's lightning bolts, but a moment later, Zuko called up to her. "It's a short drop. You'll be fine."

"I hope you're right about that." She perched herself on the edge of the hole, too anxious to jump, but aware of the possibility they'd already been spotted. After a moment, common sense won out, and she dropped down the hole, legs automatically coiling to reduce the force of the impact. She landed on a stone surface beside a channel carrying water away from the palace. "What is this place?" she asked, wondering what possible reason the Fire Nation could have for such a spacious sewer system when the slope of the islands was quite effective at carrying waste and water away.

"It's a secret passage into the palace. These tunnels lead straight to the bunkers, where the royal family stays during eclipses."

"But Azula was in the palace during the eclipse," she said, remembering the disastrous battle in the throne room.

"Azula is . . ." Zuko frowned, turning to the right as two tunnels intersected. "She's always had her little . . . oddities."

"Like being crazy?" _And homicidal? _

"Yes," Zuko said, completely serious. "Like being crazy."

"How long has she been crazy?"

He shrugged. "Always, I guess. It's gotten worse over the years." His voice softened, and he glanced down. "We actually used to get along."

"Get along. With _Azula_?"

"What? You get along with your brother, don't you?"

"Yes, but . . ." She exhaled sharply. "But Sokka doesn't try to kill me every five minutes."

Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose, but rather than irritation, she saw worry etched into his face. She repeated the conversation over in her mind, trying to figure out what had upset him. He almost sounded . . . sympathetic, when he talked about Azula. As if he felt _bad _for her.

It seemed so backwards that she didn't feel the even smallest amount pity for the girl.

"I don't think I'd be able to kill her," Zuko whispered, so quietly it took her a moment to decipher the words. They continued through the maze of tunnels in silence, Zuko guiding the way as if the path had been etched in the wall. As the drainage system shifted from squared off corridors to a sloping dirt tunnel, Katara pulled a massive glob of water from the channel and let it float around her, ready to use it at the slightest provocation.

As they reached the mouth of the tunnel, a figure intercepted them, wearing gleaming red armor. Several dents made the chest plate bumpy, like the way Katara imagined dragon scales to look. In the man's hand was a spear.

"Move," Zuko commanded, taking a fighting stance. Katara shifted at the same moment, her water forming ice spears all around her body.

"Prince Zuko," the man said, nodding to him. "We have orders to kill you on sight."

"You won't get the chance." Zuko stepped forward, a fireball erupting from his fist and shooting down the narrow passage. Katara stepped back, instinctively pulling a thin film of water over her body to protect herself from the rush of heat.

The man stepped away from the mouth of the cave, and Zuko rushed forward, unsheathing his dual blades. Katara ran after him. "What are you doing?"

"Just trust me." He reached the end of the passage. The armored guard intercepted him, thrusting the spear point toward his throat. Zuko ducked, moving faster than Katara's eyes could track. He spun, holding his swords above his head so they formed an X. With a twist of his wrist, he snapped the spear in half, wooden splinters dropping to the ground at his feet. The guard reeled back.

Katara moved faster, bending a globe of water around her body and sending it toward the man. It shot through the air, slamming into his side and knocking him half a dozen feet back, until he slammed into the condensed dirt of the wall. She froze him there, fingers curling so her nails bit into her palm as the water turned to ice. Freezing water was simple for her now, though it had once been a challenge even in the frigid South Pole.

_I've come a long way, _she thought. They were so close to ending this war. As long as they stopped Ozai before the comet. As long as Zuko survived to take the throne . . .

As long as they found Aang before Aang found trouble.

"This way," Zuko said, still holding his swords.

Katara hurried after him. "Why didn't you just use your firebending on him?"

"Because I didn't have to," he said, glancing back at her as the dirt walls changed to metal corridors. "I knew him from back before I was banished. He was one of the palace guards, but he wasn't one of the best." He hesitated, his single eyebrow slanting back, making him look uncertain. "Fire is one of the most painful ways to go. Better to kill cleanly, if you have to."

Katara blinked. "Zuko . . . Have you ever killed anyone before?"

His gait faltered for a second. "Of course not! What makes you think I would?"

She looked away, remembering the man from the Fire Nation hospital, the man she'd accidentally killed with her bloodbending. Even now, the thought made her stomach churn. "I just . . . We're at war, Zuko. I know it's unavoidable sometimes." _And sometimes, you _want _to, _she thought, her mind flashing to Yon Rha.

"You don't think I can do it," he said, stopping abruptly and grabbing her hand. The water swirling around her splashed to the ground.

"Zuko—"

"You think I can't kill my father," he said, his hold on her hand tightening.

"No!" she yelled, yanking her hand away. The water stirred at her feet, reacting to her frustration. "I don't _want _you to kill anyone! It's awful, Zuko, even knowing you're capable of it." Her vision blurred for a second, and she blinked to dispel the moisture. "It's not just something you do because you think you have to!"

He flung his hands into the air. "Aang can't face him alone. He's not ready."

"I'm not talking about _Aang_, I'm talking about _you_! About _us_!"

Zuko blinked rapidly, derailed. "What?"

She spun around, making frustrated gestures even as the water shifted under her feet. "That man in the hospital—"

"That was an accident," Zuko interrupted.

"He's still dead! And here, you're talking about killing your own family like it's nothing! And I know it's inevitable, and that we're out of options, but I can't believe how calm you are about it!"

"I'm not calm!" he exploded. Katara shrank back, then squared her shoulders. She'd asked him to show how he felt. She wouldn't flinch away from his anger.

Zuko went on, stalking down the corridor even as he yelled. "It's driving me crazy, and believe me, this is the last thing I wanted to do. If Aang hadn't run off, we could've made a better plan, or we could've done this the stealthy way. But you're right, there _aren't _any other options now, and if we do find my father somewhere in this pit, I can't hesitate." He exhaled sharply, regaining control of himself. "Of course I don't want to do this. All I wanted, for _years_, was to please him, to make him think I was worthy of the crown. That doesn't just go away. But there's no time to think about that anymore."

He looked away, biting his lip. His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I'm scared, Katara. I'm scared we're going to die. I'm scared we'll fail and the Earth Kingdom will get destroyed." He lifted his head. His eyes smoldered, like a dying fire. "But you know what I'm _most _afraid of?"

She waited, heart thumping. He looked so vulnerable, as if the wind could knock him down. "What? What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm afraid you won't be able to look at me if I do it. I'm afraid that I'll have to make a choice between you or the rest of the world. And I'd have to choose the world. I'd _have _to, Katara." His eyes glinted with nascent tears, but none slipped past his control. His shoulders were tight, his face smooth, controlled. The only thing giving away his pain was the sea of anguish in his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No." She stepped forward and took his hands between hers. They stopped. "I don't turn my back on people who need me. I definitely don't turn my back on my friends." Her grip tightened, emphasizing her words. "I love you, Zuko. Whatever happens today, or tomorrow, or the next day, that will always be true. Even if we drift apart, or break up, or _whatever_ else, I will always love you."

"Katara, I—"

She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in a fierce kiss, grabbing him by the shoulders and holding him close to her. "I trust your judgment, Zuko. Whatever you choose, I want you to know that I won't stop loving you because of it."

He opened his mouth to reply, then froze as a screech ripped through the hallway. A flash of blue caught Katara's eye, and she turned, drawing a wall of water between herself and the cushion of heated air that shot down the corridor. But even as the heat from the blast pushed toward them, Zuko sprinted toward the source of the screech. "Mom!" he shouted down the corridor.

_Mom? _Katara thought, as another explosion echoed through the corridor.


	64. Tipping Point

Chapter Sixty-Four

It felt as if she'd stepped into a canoe in rough seas. Azula lurched forward, her gait awkward, her knees shaking beneath her even as her mother lifted her head.

"Mother?" she whispered, a pang shooting through her chest. Real this time. Not a hallucination. Not a ghost. But she still couldn't believe it. "Mother, are you really there? Is that really . . . _you_?"

Ursa looked up, eyes wide, shiny. Her pallid face reflected the firelight. Azula took another step forward, feeling as if she was walking through a dream.

Because it couldn't be real. Her mother was dead. Had to be. _Banished_ was code for dead in the Fire Nation. _But Zuko was banished, and he's still alive, _she thought, lungs seizing up.

"Mom!"

Azula blinked at the unexpected voice, eyes panning the room as she searched for her brother. For the first time, she noticed the bald air nomad brat behind Ursa. Irritation flared in her chest. _She__'s__ too cowardly to meet me alone. She's weak. She made Zuko weak. She would've made _me _weak, if I'd let her. _Her chest heaved, but it felt as if no oxygen was reaching her lungs, as if she was slowly suffocating. Her gaze returned to her mother. "You had to go and bring everybody, didn't you? Couldn't face me like a warrior." A chuckle burst through her lips, and even to her own ears, it sounded mad, off-balance. "You claim to be such a devoted mother, and you don't even trust your own daughter."

"Azula, listen to me. Everything will be all right, I promise you. We can talk. We can fix this. I can help you rule the Fire Nation and make peace!"

"Peace?" she echoed, as rapid footsteps approached the throne room. Her brother darted around the massive doorway, breathing hard. The blue-eyed water tribe peasant followed him in, surrounded by a rotating circle of water. Both paused, glancing toward the Avatar with mixed expressions of relief and frustration.

"Azula, stop!"

"Oh, hello brother." She grinned. "I was just having a conversation with our mother. Care to join me?"

His eyes zeroed in on her face, horror creeping over his features. Then his gaze flickered to their mother, to her singed robe, and his expression evened out. He fell into a fighting stance, fists in front of his chest. "I never thought you could turn into this."

Her grin widened, a giddy, powerful feeling rushing through her veins. _The family's all here, _she thought. _And soon, I'll be the only one left. _"Turn into what, brother? A monster?" Her eyes flashed to her mother. At Ursa's wince, the invigorating sense of power sharpened. _I'm in control now, _she thought. _I can do whatever I want. _

"You burned Mom!" Zuko yelled, as Ursa struggled to stand.

"You were always very temperamental, Zu-zu. You should try to calm down. Wouldn't want you to do anything rash." She tilted her head to the side, another chuckle breaking through her lips. "Did you forget? She _abandoned_ us. She left us alone with Ozai."

"Careful," Zuko warned. "I don't think our father would approve of your tone."

Her left eyelid twitched. "Approve?" Her shoulders shook, cold fury pulsing through her, mingling with the heady rush of anticipation. Zuko was the last person standing in her way. As soon as he was gone, there would be no one to take the throne from her. _No one will be able to stop me. I'll be invincible. _Her smirk grew so wide that the corners of her lips started to ache. "You think I care about Father's _approval_?" She tilted her head back and laughed, the sound grating on her ears, matching the eerie cadence of her earlier chuckles. "Our father is _dead_, Zuko. He's been dead for days."

The satisfaction of seeing her brother flinch was all the fuel she needed to continue. "I learned a lot from Father in the three years you were gone. A _lot_, Zuko, more than you ever could. After all, I was the perfect student, the prodigy. I was the one Father pinned all his hopes on. It was so _tragic_ when that assassin stuck a knife in his heart. But, you know, I can't say I disapprove. It was brilliantly executed. They laid the blame on one of the servants, then vanished. They might even be in the palace right at this moment."

"You didn't," the blue-eyed peasant said, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames.

"You sent an assassin after our father?" Zuko asked, eyes widening.

She _tsked_, folding her hands behind her back. "Come now, Zu-zu, I thought you were more clever than that. You're making me look bad."

"What are you talking about?"

The corner of her lip twitched. "_I _killed our father, Zuko. Stuck one of Mai's knives between his ribs while he was sleeping. He bled out right there on the bed. Ruined those lovely silk sheets."

"You monster!"

_Monster. _Her hands coiled into fists, and she stepped forward. "You think _I'm _a monster? You'd do the same to get where I am! Too bad you've already missed your chance."

"You're crazy!" the Avatar yelled, lifting his glider as if to strike. Water sloshed around the water tribe peasant, dripping over the floor, misting against the walls. Zuko's fists tightened infinitesimally. _Three against one, _she thought, looking between them as she took a fighting stance. _Bad odds._

Her fingernails bit into her palms. Azula inhaled, then held her breath, resisting the impulse to wring each of their necks. Her temples pounded with each heartbeat, her blood singing with fury. She could feel energy rushing through her body, flowing like magma through her chi paths, focusing in her fingertips. "You shouldn't have said that." She took another step forward. Zuko tensed. "Your friends ought to be nicer to me, Zu-zu. I could have you all executed right now."

"I haven't seen a single guard since I walked in here."

"I didn't say anything about having one of the _guard__s_do it." Chi vibrated in her fingertips, straining to escape her body. "I prefer a more personal approach." She lifted her hand, two fingers extending, aiming for his chest. Zuko's stance shifted as he prepared to catch the lightning bolt.

_So predictable, _she thought, exhaling as the chi split and crashed together inside her body. This—tormenting Zuko so he snapped like an overstretched hair binder—this was what she'd been _made_ for.

She shifted her arm half a degree, pointing her fingertips toward their mother instead. Ursa's eyes widened, eyebrows shooting into her hairline. "Goodbye, mother," Azula said emptily, as a bolt of lightning exploded from her fingertips.

"_No_!" Zuko shrieked, already moving to intercept the bolt.

"So self-sacrificing," she murmured, moving her hand sharply to the right. Another bolt of energy shot up her spine and arced across her hand. "And so, so predictable." The second bolt danced across her fingertips just as Zuko caught the first in his fingertips. Azula aimed, the movements so rehearsed, they were instinctive.

Blue light danced across the glossy walls. The waterbending peasant called out a warning. Zuko turned, diverting the first blast off to the side of the throne room.

And Azula's second bolt struck the Avatar in the heart.


	65. Asking for a Miracle

Chapter Sixty-Five

"_Aang!_"

Thunder crashed through the vast room, echoing off the walls, shaking picture frames. Katara lurched forward, bending the water along after her. Sparks danced across Aang's body, sizzling his skin. A smoky stench spread through the throne room.

Aang didn't even scream. That was how fast it happened. That was how fast it was over.

Katara flung herself to the floor, barely cognizant of the fact that Azula had drawn back, gathering energy for another attack as the bolt Zuko had redirected away from his mother struck the wall. The support struts cracked and hissed, igniting. Still, Katara was only aware the way Aang slumped to the floor, legs dropping out from underneath him. Only aware of the blood rushing in her ears like the hiss of ocean swells, the silence she heard from Aang, the fire and noise all around her.

Her hands found his chest, right where he'd been hit. "Aang? Aang!"

No response. The water she'd been bending around her body splashed everywhere, and she ran her hand across the liquid, bending it so it clung to her like a second skin. She brought the water to the hole in his chest, her own heart thumping rapidly as light poured from the liquid.

And nothing happened. The hole in Aang's chest didn't start healing. He didn't stir. He didn't take a breath. His heart didn't beat.

Katara changed tactics, mind racing. The water leaked away from her hands. Instinct guided her as she pulled on something inside him, manipulating the blood flow the same way she'd unconsciously done to preserve her own life on the Day of Black Sun. _It has to work, _she thought. _It has to._

"Katara, we've got to get out of here," Zuko said. "My mom—"

"Go!" she shouted, not even looking at him.

"I'm not leaving without you!"

She pressed her hands against Aang's chest. His ribs felt as delicate as birds' wings, but she kept bending, pulling his blood through his heart, forcing it to pump even as she healed the electrical burns carved into his flesh. She tried to sync his heartbeat with her own, but she could barely pull the blood through the right channels, let alone do so at a stable pace. "Just go!"

"Katara—"

"Zuko, she's right."

It took a moment to register the unfamiliar voice, and another moment to remember that the speaker was Zuko's mother. _What was she doing here? _Katara wondered distantly, still healing Aang's injury.

"Mom—"

"I'll find my way out," the woman said. "You can come along, or you can stay here. I'll be _fine_."

"Mom, I love you." Heartbreak accented every syllable, and Katara couldn't help but wince at the hopelessness those words carried. As if Zuko thought he might be saying them for the last time.

Azula's voice cut in, feral and commanding. "No one leaves! No one! Not even _you_."

_Thump, thump, thump. _Katara's heartbeat thundered in her eardrums, drowning out the princess's shrieks. Yet while her own heart raced, she struggled for every beat of Aang's heart, her breath becoming labored, her fingers starting to shake from exertion. She'd never fully realized how draining bloodbending was.

From the corner of her eye, Katara saw Zuko's mother hurrying out of the room, the back of her robes scorched, her skin blistering from Azula's fire. A second later, Zuko turned toward Azula, raising his fists. "No more games, Azula. Let's do this right."

Voice dripping false sweetness, Azula spoke. "What _ever _do you mean, brother?"

"I challenge you to an Agni-Kai."

* * *

><p>"An Agni-Kai?" Azula threw her head back and laughed. "Why?" she asked, body shaking with amusement. "So we can do this the honorable way? Ridiculous. As if a traitor like you has any honor left."<p>

Zuko said nothing, only held his fighting stance. Azula seldom played fair, but an Agni-Kai was sacred. If he could just convince her it was the right way to settle things . . . _Then what? _whispered that small, self-defeating voice in his head. _You'll kill her? She'll kill you? Whoever lives will take the throne? _

"It's the honorable thing to do, and you know it." He shuffled to the side, putting himself between Katara and his sister. Azula smirked and threw a knowing look at the waterbender before tossing her head back and chuckling again.

"And what, Zu-zu, would be the point of accepting your challenge? I have the crown, the power, the talent. Why would I risk it all on a stupid duel?"

Zuko inhaled, not allowing his panic to show on his face. _Think, _he told himself. _What could Azula want that she could get from winning? _

"I'm _waiting, _Zuko. Do you have an answer, or not?"

"Almost all the palace guards are gone," he said, thinking aloud. And it was true. He'd encountered only one, though he'd seen several lying unconscious on his way to the throne room. Still, he'd expected to run into dozens, especially considering his father had been assassinated just a few days ago. And he could only attribute their absence to Azula. "Did you banish them, or did they quit because they couldn't stand to be around you?"

Fury glittered in his sister's eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was sickly sweet. "I banished them. They didn't even have the brains to realize I was the one who'd killed Father. They were worthless to me."

"They left, didn't they? They walked away, and you banished them so no one would realize just how awful it is to work with you."

"Shut up! Just because they have no sense of loyalty doesn't make me and unfit Fire Lord."

_So it's true, _he thought. _She can make people fear her, but she can't make anyone respect her. __Not now. _He exhaled, thoughts racing. The line of fire at Azula's feet flared blue, lighting up the dim room. Embers rose toward the ceiling, turning orange before they faded to ash. The fire writhed with every breath Azula took. _If she were in my place, she'd be trying to push me into doing something reckless. Maybe I can do the same. _"Are you sure? Because I think some of them remember the fact that there's one person ahead of you in the line of succession."

"You're just a traitor. You've got no power here."

"Neither do you." He edged forward, glancing over his shoulder. Behind him, Katara remained consumed with healing Aang. She didn't even seem aware of his proximity, or the argument over the throne. He wasn't even sure she'd hear him if he called her name.

Azula snorted, and Zuko's eyes flashed to her as she stepped off the dais. "I'm more powerful than you'll ever be. And you know that."

He did know that, knew it just as he knew when the sun rose and set. Azula was a firebending prodigy, practically a legend within the Fire Nation. Yet something had changed in her since the last time they'd met. She'd attacked their mother, then asked if she was _real_, as if she hadn't quite believed it.

Zuko knew he couldn't face Azula on a normal day. But perhaps he could face her now, as she unraveled, as her childhood oddities developed into something more unbalanced, less controlled. And if there was even a chance that he could change things, he had to take it. He played his final card. "Think about it, Azula. If you beat me in an Agni-Kai, there'll no one else to take the throne. People will listen to you _unconditionally_. Don't you want that?" _Isn't that what you've always wanted?_

The strangest expression crossed Azula's face, and she half-turned, lips parting as she murmured to the air beside her. Zuko watched, disquieted by the one-sided conversation. After a moment, Azula's features evened out and she turned back to him. "I suppose that makes sense. Meet me at the coronation plaza at sundown, and we can finish this the honorable way."

Zuko nodded, relaxing his stance. "I'll be there."

"Oh, and by the way, Zu-zu, do you mind taking that filthy peasant out of my throne room? She's going to make the floor dirty."

His hands clenched into fists, knuckles turning white. Azula chuckled and headed toward one of the back doors. "Just teasing, brother. But really, do get moving. I'd hate to have one of the guards wander in here and kill her by accident." She nudged open a metal door at the back of the room and slipped out, chuckling as she went.

Zuko headed over to where Katara knelt and crouched beside her. "What do you need?"

"Bandages. Salve for the burns. Oh, and if the Fire Nation happens to have any water from the Spirit Oasis, that would be _great_."

Zuko nodded, ignoring the sarcasm. He knew Katara wasn't actually asking for her spirit water—she'd lost it when they'd been taken prisoner at the Crystal Catacombs. No, Katara was asking for a miracle.

_We definitely need one, _he thought, heading toward the medical ward. The halls were still eerily empty, devoid of guards except for one man lying unconscious beside a pot of fire lilies. He hurried past the man, then made a sharp left into the medical wing. This place was just as empty. _Did Azula _actually_ banish everyone? _he wondered.

Several signs marked the path to the infirmary, but he'd been there plenty of times in his childhood to let muscle memory guide him. He especially remembered the days after the Agni-Kai with his father, before the banishment papers had been finalized, before he'd officially been exiled. His uncle had been his only visitor. Not even Mai had dared enter the infirmary, though even then she'd been stealthy enough to make the attempt with little personal risk.

He sighed, opening one of the cabinets and searching for various salves and bandages. Both were easy to find—burns were the most common injury in the Fire Nation, after all. As he closed the mirrored cabinet, something in the reflection caught his eye. It looked like an icicle suspended on a thin chain. It hung from a nail embedded on the wall, where a framed piece of paper described its significance. Zuko turned and hurried over to the odd necklace, heart racing. _Impossible, _he thought, staring at the glass ornament. _There's no way this made it all the way here. This is crazy._

He reached forward anyway, pulling the ornate necklace off the wall and holding it up to the light. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the pocket of water contained within the glass spire, but he still couldn't believe it, still couldn't reconcile this object's presence _here_ with the necklace Katara had shown him so long ago. He cradled the amulet in his hands, unwilling to get his hopes up, but unable to quash the relief he felt.

The necklace was full of spirit water.


	66. Miracles and Arguments

Chapter Sixty-Six

_It's not working, _Katara thought, panting as she knitted Aang's damaged heart back together. Her bloodbending pushed her more than any other type of waterbending—her whole body sagged with fatigue, and her mind grew weary of sorting out thousands of miniscule capillaries. Healing someone was always exhausting, but healing with bloodbending left her drained, weak.

She started to wonder if she'd be able to save Aang, or if her efforts were futile. The damage to Aang's heart meant it wouldn't be able to beat on its own until she could finish healing it, if that was even possible. As it was, she could barely maintain a heartbeat without having his blood gush everywhere. The scent of iron hung like a miasma in the air.

_Maybe I should've asked Zuko to come back with a miracle, too, _she thought, taking a deep breath and dragging more blood through Aang's heart, knitting together dozens of destroyed blood vessels at the same time. _Maybe I should've practiced more. Maybe I shouldn't have been so scared to take that step._

She thought of how she'd argued with Zuko over the morality of bloodbending, how she'd resisted learning it because of that one man in the Fire Nation hospital. _I should've learned my limitations. I should've tried to push my skills so I could _do _this. _Tears budded in her eyes, and she rubbed her face against her shoulders to wipe them away. More took their place as her anguish spiraled out of control.

Aang had been her best friend for over a year, and now he was going to die because she couldn't save him.

_Maybe if I'd actually gone to Yugoda's healing sessions in the North Pole, I'd have a better idea what I was doing. _Her shoulders tightened as she sent another gush of blood through Aang's heart, encouraging it to beat on its own. It didn't.

She kept working.

After a few minutes, she heard the slap of shoes racing down the hall. The possibility of being intercepted by one of the palace guards flitted through her mind, but she discarded it as she recognized the familiar rhythm of Zuko's steps. A moment later, Zuko rounded the corner and sprinted into the throne room. "Did you bring the medicine?" she asked quietly, knowing there was no _p__oint _to having burn medicine if she couldn't treat the fatal injury.

"Yes, and I found something better."

"Better," she echoed, not looking up. "And what's that?"

"Katara, _look_."

Sending another pulse of fluid through Aang's heart, Katara lifted her head. The muscles in her neck felt weak, sore, and for the first time, she wondered how long she'd been sitting here. It couldn't have taken Zuko more than a few minutes to find the infirmary—he had lived here most of his life, after all—but it felt as if she'd been kneeling at Aang's side for hours.

And then she saw the icicle-shaped necklace dangling from Zuko's hand, and her fatigue vanished like rain swallowed up by sewers. "My spirit water!"

Zuko nodded and handed it to her. She uncorked the top and poured the precious liquid into her palm, praying to Yue that it would have the effect she was hoping for. It spread across her palm, cold as river water in autumn and responsive to her bending in a way normal water wasn't. She lowered her hand over the crispy hole in Aang's chest and closed her eyes, focusing as it started to glow.

The difference was astounding. Damaged blood vessels healed in less than a quarter of the time it had taken for her bloodbending to repair them, and the water sunk into Aang's flesh, knitting together damaged tissue, revitalizing his cardiac muscles. All the while, she kept pushing blood through his heart, forcing it to keep beating.

And then she felt it. A _pulse _under her hands, independent of her bloodbending. She froze, the remaining drops of spirit water clinging to her hand as a wild hope washed through her.

Aang's heart had started beating on its own.

"It's working!" she half-shrieked, nearly jumping to her feet before she remembered that there were still repairs to be made. Zuko edged closer, watching her work with avid attention, like a student preparing for an exam.

As the last of the spirit water seeped into Aang's body, Katara returned to her previous methods, using her bloodbending solely to heal as Aang's heartbeat became more regular. Her success propelled her through her earlier weariness, and despite her body's urge to lie down right where she knelt, she managed to seal up some of the larger blood vessels so they could function again.

"He's going to be all right," she said, _finally _taking a moment to look at Zuko. Surprise flickered across his face.

"Really?"

She nodded, then gestured to the wound. "I know it looks bad, but the worst of the damage is healed. Zuko, how did you find my spirit water?"

"It was hanging on the wall in the infirmary. One of the doctors or nurses must've realized what it was for and asked to have it."

"But where did _they _get it? I lost it when we got captured in Ba Sing Se."

Zuko nodded, seeming to consider something. After a moment, he said, "It probably ended up in storage after Azula came back. She probably didn't realize how valuable it was."

Katara beamed at him, then leaned forward to brush her lips against his. Zuko froze in surprise, then kissed her back, lifting his hands to her face and brushing his fingertips across her jaw. Smiling, she turned back to Aang, bending water onto her hand and placing it over his wound. "It's a miracle, Zuko."

He shrugged, lacing his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I guess. We got lucky this time."

"Maybe it was Yue."

"Huh?"

"Yue. The princess of the North Pole."

Zuko frowned, his single eyebrow slanting downward in puzzlement. Katara sighed and continued. "During the siege of the North, Yue sacrificed herself and became the moon spirit in order to preserve the balance of the world." Regret tinged her words, and she took a breath to control the flood of grief sweeping through her. She hadn't known Yue long, but she didn't think she'd ever be able to remember her sacrifice without feeling that strange mix of gratitude and sorrow. She didn't think Sokka would ever be able to stop feeling it, either. _We've all lost so much because of this war, _she thought, remembering her present circumstances. "Yue showed me the Spirit Oasis. You know, where we fought."

"Oh. Right."

"Anyway, sometimes it feels like Yue is watching over us. Like now. I mean, it seems so strange that my spirit water ended up here, and you found it right when we needed it. It's almost like . . ." She trailed off, then shook her head. "Well, some things don't need explanations."

Zuko nodded absently, glancing down at Aang. Katara did the same, working through the same motions she had before, healing with both water and blood as she tried to find a balance between effectiveness and not exhausting herself.

"So . . . You remember what Azula and I argued about, right? About the Agni-Kai?"

Her hand froze above Aang's chest, her smile faltering. _The Agni-Kai. I forgot all about it._ "You can't go."

"I have to."

"No." She moved to stand, then hesitated, unwilling to interrupt Aang's healing process. "It's too dangerous. We'll fight her together. We can win."

Zuko shook his head. "Impossible. I challenged her to a duel. If I back out now, I'll be seen as a coward by everyone in the Fire Nation. People would never respect me as Fire Lord, even if the title's mine by birthright."

"Does insanity run in the family?" Katara demanded. "Azula never plays fair, and she never misses a chance to hurt you. What makes you think it's a good idea to fight her one-on-one?"

"It's not! It's a _terrible _idea! But that doesn't change the fact that I have to do it. An Agni-Kai is sacred. Even Azula wouldn't dare break a tradition that central to Fire Nation culture."

"Not even for the crown?"

He hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't think so. Azula is confident—she won't even consider the possibility of losing."

"But you'll be careful."

"Of course." He sighed, glancing at the door. "We've got a couple hours until sunset. Long enough to carry Aang back to Appa and leave them somewhere safe."

"And we're just leaving him there?"

"No. You're going with him."

Katara put her hands on her hips, scowling. "No way. I'm not going to leave you alone in hostile territory."

"You won't be able to do anything during the Agni-Kai anyway. You'll be doing a lot more good by taking Aang somewhere safe."

"Where is 'safe'? Away from the city? Back on that deserted island where we've been camping for the past few weeks? There's no way I'll be able to get out of the Fire Nation, drop Aang off somewhere, _and_ come back to heal you if this Agni-Kai doesn't pan out well."

"I know." He turned his back on her, shoulders slumping. "I know . . . But if something happens during the duel, it won't matter if you're there or not. If I lose, it'll be because I'm dead."


	67. Tangled Family Lines and Coincidence

Chapter Sixty-Seven

"If I lose, it'll be because I'm dead."

Katara stared at him, a chasm opening up in her stomach. Her arms coiled around her chest, as if to keep her from shattering.

"I . . ." Zuko turned to face her, the muscles in his neck standing up. His chest flexed beneath his shirt as he inhaled, but when he exhaled, his breath quivered. "I don't want you to watch. I might have to _kill _my sister, Katara. And if you were to see that—"

"I wouldn't blame you."

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "That's not what I'm getting at. I know you wouldn't. But I still don't want you to watch. I'd never be able to forgive myself for making you see something like that."

"Zuko . . ." Her throat tightened. Her vision blurred. Her heart ached.

Because he was right. Even if she didn't blame him, she'd never be able to scrub the image of him killing someone out of her mind. Watching it would be no different from the memory of bloodbending that man in the hospital. Seeing him kill would change her, change _them._

_Could I live with it? _she wondered. _Is it really better if I just listen to the outcome later rather than see it firsthand? Will that make it any easier? _She looked down at Aang, remembering the rush of desperation she'd felt when he'd fallen. Yet thousands of soldiers and civilians died daily in the war, and she wasn't in an encampment trying to save lives. _It's not an adventure, _she thought, remembering the times she'd cherished with her friends. Penguin sledding, having her fortune told, relaxing when she had nothing else to do. All the while, people had been dying. It had only been when she'd witnessed disasters firsthand that she'd stopped to help people. So of course hearing about the Agni-Kai afterward would carry less impact than seeing it for herself.

_But what if Zuko's injured? What if I'm not there to heal him, or get him away from Azula? __What if I lose _him_, too?_

"No," she said, stepping forward and taking his hand. Surprise flitted across his face. "Fighting Azula is your choice. But you won't send me away."

"Katara."

"No arguments! Not today. We're already so close to losing everything—I won't stay behind and wait for you to come back."

Zuko opened his mouth, then closed it, taking a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded. "I'm sure."

Zuko sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. After several calming breaths, he lowered his hand and inclined his head toward Aang. "Where are we going to leave him during the Agni-Kai?"

The seconds slipped by like sand through her fingers as she considered the possibilities. At last, she sighed. "We could track down Zou and leave Aang with him," she suggested, wary of Zuko's reaction. The firebenders had been at each other's throats ever since Zou had challenged Zuko to an Agni-Kai, but she doubted the younger boy would harm Aang.

"Right. Because Zou's a wellspring of good judgment and self-restraint."

She crossed her arms, her eyes settling on his face. "Yeah, I know the type."

Zuko didn't seem to realize he'd been the subject of her remark. Rather than getting irritated, he crouched by Aang's side. "Is it safe to lift him up?"

"Yeah, but be careful."

Zuko slipped one arm under Aang's knees and the other under his neck, scooping him up like a sleeping child. Which, Katara supposed, was exactly what Aang looked like, his features slackened in unconsciousness. Blood loss had left his skin an unnatural white, as if he was a spirit.

Katara shook her head. She would _not _imagine Aang as a spirit. The worst of the damage had been repaired, and she intended to keep healing him once they were safely on Appa's back.

Together, they headed out of the throne room, hurrying through the palace. She kept her guard up, water circling around her, but it was as if every soul in the palace had vanished. When they finally stepped out into the bright afternoon light, she sighed in relief.

"The garden's this way," Zuko said, leading her toward the place they'd left Appa half an hour ago. It seemed strange that so much had happened in that timeframe. She looked at Zuko, then at Aang. Losing either of them would break her. Yet Zuko intended to fight Azula, one-on-one. No backup plan, no safety net, no guidelines.

They found Appa after just a few minutes. The flying bison had stayed behind the bushes, the top of his head still exposed, but he'd remained unharmed. When they approached, the massive mammal rose to its feet, letting out a concerned grumble. Katara climbed onto the saddle and helped pull Aang into place as Zuko lifted him up. At once, she went back to work, pulling a bit of water from the decorative ponds in the garden and filtering out all the slimy greenery before lowering the liquid to Aang's chest to resume the healing process.

"Ready to fly?" Zuko asked, taking the reins.

"Yeah." She braced herself, one arm hovering protectively over Aang as Appa shot up into the sky. Her whole body grew heavy, gravity pulling on her until they leveled out and started toward where they'd left Zou early that morning.

_We can do this, _she thought. _We can stop this war before the comet. We have to._

* * *

><p>"You know, we could make a deal." Zou leaned closer to the bearded man, spinning a Pai Sho tile between his thumb and index finger. "I win, you give me the dirt on recent Fire Nation politics. The good stuff." He set the tile down, looked up, and waited.<p>

The old man huffed in exasperation. "Kid, if I didn't tell you when you asked, what makes you think I'm going to tell you if you beat me at Pai Sho?"

"See, you have two options here. You can tell me now, or you can beat me at Pai Sho and I'll leave it be. But you know, it would be really unfortunate if you _refused _to take that risk, retired General Ilio."

The man's eyebrows slanted down. He sat back. "Now, where did a street rat like you hear about _me_?"

"Word travels." He picked up the waterfall tile and began spinning it with his fingers. "And I need an express delivery on certain information."

His eyes narrowed. "Such as?"

Zou lowered his voice. "I was wondering if you'd heard anything about the Avatar's whereabouts."

"The Avatar is dead. It was big news."

"I heard you'd retired quite _recently_, General. Recently enough that you would, theoretically, be aware that the Avatar is not only alive, but has recently escaped his prison cell."

Silence. The old man's nose twitched. Under the table, Zou's free hand tightened into a fist, heat dancing between his fingers. General Ilio picked up his fire-whiskey, brought the glass to his lips, and drank deeply. When all that remained of the glass's contents were a few cubes of ice, he set it on the edge of the table and looked Zou in the eye. "I haven't had any word on the Avatar since Fire Lady Azula made me retire. Last I heard, he was at the Eastern Air Temple."

Zou looked at him for a long moment, lowering the Pai Sho tile he'd been fiddling with. Blood rushed in his ears, blocking out the din of the tavern. When he spoke, his own voice sounded far away. "Fire Lady Azula?"

General Ilio chuckled, then gestured toward one of the servers. The girl rushed over, pasting a smile on her face. "Yes, sir? Would you like a refill?"

"Fire-whiskey. Two of 'em. Looks like this little brat could use one."

The words barely registered in his mind. Zou stared at the stacks of Pai Sho tiles, his thoughts a thousand miles away, at the Capital City. He'd never been to the palace—his father had been too ashamed to bring him, the few times he'd been invited—but he could imagine the labyrinthine corridors, the fiery throne room, the vast, empty chambers waiting to be furnished for some purpose. And he could imagine Princess Azula sitting in the throne, the flames glowing bright blue at her feet as she banished Ozai's supporters one by one. "Fire Lord Azula?" he repeated, all the blood seeping out of his face.

"That's right. Took the throne a few days ago, when some servant offed Ozai." A dark chuckle escaped the general's throat. "Betcha she hired an assassin to deal with him. Little bitch was always obsessed with getting her way, even when her father started letting her sit in at war meetings."

Zou leaned forward, a thirst for information driving back some of the shock. "And what are Azula's plans for the comet? Have they changed from Ozai's plans?"

"Wouldn't know. Retired before I could find out."

"You seem a bit young for retirement, General."

"Not a day past fifty-seven, and she gave me the ultimatum: retire voluntarily, or, well . . ." His grin faltered. His voice dropped. "I do have a family, kid. When the Fire Lord or Lady gives you an ultimatum like she did, you do what you have to."

"What was the ultimatum?"

"My kids are soldiers. Both of them. Son's on the fast track, almost a commander now. My daughter heads a committee dealing with the advancement of Fire Nation technology and its wartime applications. Great kids. Love them to death. Either I retired, or they . . ." He fidgeted in his seat. "Doesn't matter now. I retired."

Zou kneaded his hands together, holding back the obvious fact that the general's "good kids" had likely been responsible for numerous deaths during the war. But he didn't want to step on that landmine, not when he was so close to getting pertinent information. He waited for the general to continue.

"You know," Ilio said, folding his hands on the table. "I worry about them. See, I never really liked Fire Lord Ozai, but at least the Fire Nation was stable under his rule. I'm not sure about his daughter. Last time I saw her was in the war room, before Ozai bit it, and even then, she had that look in her eyes. She's cold. Bet she'd kill without blinking. Good soldiers worry about going cold like that in battle, turning into monsters. Thoughts like that keep a person up at night. But her? Not right in the head. Calculating. Manipulative. But she doesn't get the human element, doesn't get how to treat people with respect. She surrounds herself with people who lust for power, glory, money, and she uses that to get inside their heads. As bad as Ozai ever was, and not nearly as quiet about it." He exhaled, picking up his drink. Zou did the same, then winced as the alcohol burned down his throat. "That Azula is one cold bitch."

Zou set down his fire-whiskey. "So you don't support her claim."

"She has no claim! Banished or not, her brother is still ahead of her in line for the throne. A royal decree from the previous Fire Lord could change that, but seeing as he's burnt to bits by now, that ain't going to happen. It might take months, but eventually, people will start questioning who they'd rather have as Fire Lord—her, or her brother."

"And which would you prefer?" _The banished prince or the psycho princess?_

General Ilio snorted. "Boy, have you even been listening? Of course I'd rather have Zuko running the country. And if you're smart, you'd want the same."

Zou sat back, picked up his fire-whiskey, and gulped it down. He didn't want _either _of them in charge of the Fire Nation, but even he had to admit that the only alternatives were General Iroh or Lady Ursa. _Maybe things would've been different if Iroh had taken the throne instead of Ozai, _he thought, remembering the weeks he'd spent researching Fire Nation history in his father's household. And then remembering his father's scorn, the cruel firebending lessons, the ostracism.

_It could be the same situation now. A brother and a sister fighting for power, rather than just two brothers. General Iroh would stand for Zuko. But who will Lady Ursa stand for? _

"I appreciate the information, General Ilio. And the drink." He nudged the empty glass toward the center of the table as he stood. His legs wobbled with every step.

"Hey kid."

"Yeah?"

"I knew your father."

Zou froze. "Did you?"

"Took me a bit to make the connection. Knew he had a bastard kid about your age."

"If you're going to tell me there's some family resemblance—"

"You remind me of your mother, too. Never knew why she roosted with that slimy bastard, but she had the same curiosity as you do. And yeah, you've got a little bit of her in your nose and cheekbones."

Zou looked down. "I never knew her. She was gone before I was old enough to remember."

"Yeah. I remember the day I found out she'd had you. And a few months later, she left you on your father's porch. She was starving and poor and she had no one to go to, but she was a good woman. She thought she was doing the best for you."

He turned. "How do you even know all this?" he demanded. "How do you know my mother?"

"Because your mother was my daughter."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. This is what happens when I take college courses in high school. Anyway, I'm on break for a few days, so I'll probably be able to write up some extra chapters, maybe even finish this fic. We'll see. As for the content of this chapter, I felt like it was a good place to see Zou as a character minus some of the hatred he holds toward nobility and the royal family. I think we all know that Zou has some issues, and this seemed like the best time to bring certain things to light before the final curtain drops. We'll be seeing him in the next chapter, too, but hopefully I'll be able to wrap up this little plot thread before too much longer. Thanks, as always, for reading, and special thanks to my reviewers. You guys are awesome._


	68. Ember Island Revelations

Chapter Sixty-Eight

_"Because your mother was my daughter."_

Zou sat on the bar stool, his third glass of fire-whiskey sitting empty in front of him. As he beckoned the server, General Ilio rested a hand over his wrist. "That's enough now. If you're going to talk politics, don't do it drunk."

Across the room, the server hesitated, obviously unsure whether she should approach. When Zou lowered his hand, she turned back to a group of young women who'd come in half an hour ago to celebrate an engagement.

"So you're my grandfather," Zou whispered, the first words he'd spoken in almost half an hour, apart from ordering drinks. The fire-whiskey didn't burn so much now as it had the first few sips, and the rest of his body had numbed from the alcohol. "I never knew. I recognized you from when my father used to call strategy meetings."

Ilio nodded. "To be fair, he never knew I was your grandfather either. Better that way. Made the family tree seem less tangled. Besides, I wanted nothing to do with him."

"But you still went to the meetings."

"Had to. It was my job to lead soldiers into war—I had to consider all strategies, had to talk about it with other officials so I wouldn't have so many blind spots. A general is only as good as his information."

Zou nodded. That was a common saying in the Fire Nation, one that had proved true too many times to be ignored. It didn't make him feel any better. "That's why you didn't tell him? Because you hated him?"

"People do a lot of stupid things because of hatred. And yeah, your father was an asshole. But you know that."

"I always thought he hated me because I was a bastard."

"He preferred the term 'illegitimate son' in other people's hearing."

"He preferred the term 'bastard' in mine."

"Told you he was an asshole."

Zou's eyes flickered up to meet Ilio's gaze. The old man looked back at him with eyes as black as obsidian. Yes, there was a resemblance there. Distant, not noticeable until it was pointed out, but present.

"You said my mother had no one to go back to. So where were you?"

Ilio sighed. "Damn kids are too curious. Your mother was my oldest daughter. When you were born, it had been years since we'd seen each other. Vizia sent me a letter to announce the birth, and the name of the father. I thought about confronting him that day. He'd slighted me more than once, and this insult was more than I wanted to stomach. But Vizia wouldn't have wanted that. She was a gentle soul."

Zou looked up sharply. "She wasn't in the military, was she?" _That's why she didn't think she could go to you. To her own father. _

"She finagled her way out of the system. Some soldiers do. Faked a pregnancy, took some leave, then took an early retirement claiming she had the right, as a mother, to be with her children. Of course, at that point, she didn't _have_ any children. Not that I know of. She moved around the edge of the Fire Nation for a few years, then had you. Never did figure out what she saw in your father. No offense."

Zou waved off the comment. He'd accepted that his father had never, and would never, approve of his existence. What he hadn't accepted was that his mother had left him on his father's doorstep and never come back. Still didn't accept it, even with the explanation. But it was harder to resent her for it.

"And then, a couple months later, I saw you crawling around your father's living room. He said he'd taken you on as his ward, but _I_ knew. Even then, he treated you like you like a pet rather than a kid. Fed you, clothed you, and all that, but never quite managed that affection you get for your kids."

Zou's vision blurred. He opened his eyes wider, refusing to blink, as if that would dry the budding tears. To think all this for himself had been one thing. To have someone else confirm it was another.

In his daydreams, his mother had always been a faceless entity, with standard Fire Nation features and no real identifying features. In some dreams, he'd even imagined her to be from the Earth Kingdom, as he'd claimed so many times while spying for the resistance. Sometimes, his mother's features had melded with those of his father's wife, though she had never showed him much kindness either. Not that he blamed her. What Fire Nation woman would love her husband's illegitimate child when their very existence proved her husband's infidelity? No, it had been easier, more logical, to blame his father for all of it. Yet his resentment tainted his view of the rest of the family. His real mother had abandoned him. His siblings had received preferential treatment. His father had drilled him over and over again on how to act properly, and how to firebend, but never showed the slightest glint of pride in the product.

_Is it any wonder I left? I'm better off with the banished prince than I am with my own family. _"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't know your loyalties," his grandfather said. It was so odd, thinking of this stranger as his grandfather. Zou wanted to resent him, too, but his mind was already struggling to process the present moment as the fire-whiskey worked its way through his system. "Politics can be tricky business. Better for you not to know. Never thought a kid like you could run away from home and make it this far, but I never thought a twelve-year-old Avatar would cause the Fire Nation so much trouble, either. You're more resourceful than I expected."

"I wanted to get out. I hated that house."

"So you joined the resistance."

His spine went rigid, his hand coming down on the tabletop. The thud resonated in the wood, and everyone sitting on this side of the tavern looked over. He lowered his head, paranoid that someone had overheard the general's accusation. "Where did you hear that?" Zou asked, voice low.

"Didn't have to. You're looking for the Avatar. You've made it pretty clear that you resent your father and the rest of his family, most of whom are high-ranking military personnel. And considering the fact that you aren't fanatically devoted to the royal family speaks scrolls about you. Now, I could believe you were just some runaway kid, except for the fact that no one your age could make it this far without help and still look well-fed and healthy."

"So you just assume I'm part of the resistance?"

"Are you?"

Zou looked away. He couldn't help it. "No," he lied.

General Ilio sighed and set down his glass, gesturing toward the server. When she arrived, he ordered a glass of water and another fire-whiskey. Not a word passed between them until she returned with both. Ilio muttered a quick thanks, then slid the water across the table. "Drink. All that liquor is going to dehydrate you if you're not careful."

Woodenly, Zou took the glass. Frost clung to the sides of the glass, gathering into fat drops of water when he touched the container. He sipped, then drank deeply as he realized how thirsty he was.

"Vizia was the same way. Hated the war. That's probably why she faked a pregnancy to get out of her mandatory service. I'd call her a coward, but in some respects, I agree with her. A hundred-year war . . . That's too long. No war should last that long. If we were going to win, we ought to have done it within twenty years. If not, we should've cut our losses and accepted one of the peace treaties the Earth Kingdom kept offering. Everyone would've been a lot better off. Vizia would still be alive."

Zou winced, but said nothing. He'd suspected her fate from the moment his grandfather had spoken of her in the past tense. Still, a part of him mourned at the revelation. For a few moments, he'd allowed himself to hope that she was alive, that he might meet her in person. "How did she die?"

"She was living in a little village not too far from here. The Earth Kingdom invaded, trying to strike down some of our supply lines. Naturally, we retaliated, sent six-hundred soldiers up there to obliterate the Earth Kingdom. Vizia got caught in the crossfire."

Zou opened his mouth to ask the question dancing across his tongue, then hesitated, unsure if he wanted to know the answer. His grandfather look him in the eyes, then sighed, answering the unspoken question. "No one knows which side took her out. She was a civilian, and of little value to the Fire Nation military. If it had come down to it, they would've burnt her up in the process of frying Earth Kingdom soldiers. Or it could've been an earthbender, crushing her under a ton of rock. No way to know."

"I see." He drank his water, feeling more exhausted than he'd felt after an eighteen-hour shift on the lobstercrab boats.

General Ilio stood, gripping the table to help him keep his balance. He pulled a scroll from his sleeve, wrote something on it with a quill and ink he produced from his bag, and handed it to him. Zou looked at the parchment, memorizing the address there. "What's this for?"

"In case you ever want to contact me. That's my address. Central Fire Nation, south of the Capital. Send a messenger hawk, if you can't make it personally. I'll answer. But right now, I've got an appointment to keep."

"Appointment?"

"Even old men can enjoy a day at the spa. I came to Ember Island for one last vacation before the comet."

Zou rolled up the paper. "Thanks."

"You're family," Ilio said. "Family looks out for each other."

"Right." He watched his grandfather leave, then left some money on the table before heading out. The midday light pierced his eyes like daggers, and he lifted a hand to shield his eyes as he walked to the stretch of beach where the others had dropped him off hours ago. He'd spoken with all his contacts after he'd arrived—cooks, servers, spa workers, retired soldiers—and until he'd encountered his grandfather, he'd come across nothing useful. _The others will want to know about Azula's rise to power, _he thought. _But they won't be happy to hear that I couldn't find anything on the Avatar's location._

He sighed, perching himself atop a boulder embedded in the sand. And there he waited, until he saw the Avatar's flying bison soaring over the island.


	69. A Little Less Hatred

Chapter Sixty-Nine

"I see him," Katara said as they flew over Ember Island. Zuko glanced back at her, then tugged on the reins. The bison turned in midair, swooping down and stirring up a cloud of sand as they landed.

Zou jumped down from a gray boulder and hurried over. "I have news."

Zuko slid off the front of Appa's saddle. "Never mind that. We found Aang. We need to take him somewhere safe."

"Azula is Fire Lord."

"I know. We saw her when we went into the palace. She killed Ozai."

_That_ silenced the firebender for a moment. Zou stared at him, eyes wide, not even managing to uphold the constant, conspicuous hatred he'd maintained ever since he'd shown up with the Avatar a few weeks ago. Zuko sighed. "Look, we've got more important things to worry about. Azula shot Aang with lightning. Katara healed him, but he's going to be out of it when he wakes up. We need you to take care of him until we get back." _If we get back. _

Zou nodded, all business now. "We can't keep him here—there are too many people. Is there anywhere else we can bring him?"

"My family has a vacation house on the island. We'll take him there." He pulled himself back onto Appa's saddle, then stuck an arm out. "Get on the bison."

The younger boy stared at his hand for a long moment, then, face paling, reached forward and took it. Zuko pulled him up, letting him tumble across the softened leather.

"Zuko," Katara began, still perched over the sleeping airbender. A wrinkle of worry had formed between her eyebrows and dark rings shadowed her ocean-blue eyes, but when she spoke, her voice was calm, reasonable. "Is it a good idea to leave Aang in your _vacation home_? It seems a little . . ."

"Stupid?" he suggested. Katara shrugged. "It's safe enough. No one in my family has gone there since we were happy." _Since Mom left. _He shook off the thought. He'd _seen _his mother escape—she'd had a head-start. Even with the burns Azula had inflicted on her, she'd likely made it out of the palace. _But where would she go? She'd need some way off the island. Or she could be hiding. But that would be dangerous. Someone could track her. _

"If we're going, we should get flying," Zou said. "And there are other things I need to tell you."

"Fine. Appa, yip yip."

The bison grumbled and shot up into the sky. Zuko clung to the reins, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. Flying wasn't like riding an ostrich-horse. Not only were there additional commands for up and down, but Appa was much more responsive than any ostrich horse he'd ever ridden. Rather than turning smoothly, Appa jerked with each tug of the reins, occasionally growling when he pulled too hard. Even the short flight to the secluded vacation home on the east side of the island had him bracing himself at every shift in speed or direction. When they finally landed, Zuko let out a sigh of relief. "Let's get Aang inside. Katara—"

"I've got him." With a strength that belied her stature, Katara slung the airbender across her back, leaning forward and draping his arms around her neck. Zuko slid out of the saddle again and took her hand as she descended. Zou jumped down, landing hard on the sand.

"This way," Zuko said, leading them over to the front porch. He stood on his tiptoes, fingertips probing the top of the doorframe until they came across the brass key hidden there. He unlocked the door and held it open as the others followed him inside. "There are bedrooms down that hall. Otherwise, you can leave him in the living room. Floor's dusty, but not filthy."

Katara nodded, already halfway down the hallway.

"Prince Zuko."

_Here we go, _he thought, turning to Zou. "What?"

"I want to apologize."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"I met my grandfather for the first time today, while I was gathering information. He's a recently retired Fire Nation General, but your sister threatened his children—my aunt and uncle, I suppose—in order to get him out of the way."

Zuko nodded. That lined up with what he knew from his trip to the palace.

Zou continued. "We talked about a lot of things. He suspected that Azula had sent an assassin after Ozai, though it seems she ended up dealing with it herself." His black eyes flashed up to Zuko's face, as if looking for confirmation. He stood silent, waiting for the rest of the status report. "We also talked a bit about who had the right to rule the Fire Nation. Having Azula in charge for any length of time seemed . . . inadvisable."

"Right. And _how_ does that relate to—"

"I'm getting to that. My grandfather said he'd much rather have _you _running the Fire Nation. Now, I've been thinking about this, and there aren't many options for who gets to be the next Fire Lord. You have few cousins, all of them distant, and your uncle Iroh is of an age where it would no longer be . . . prudent for him to take charge."

Zuko crossed his arms. "Are you calling my uncle _old_?"

"I'm saying it would be more prudent for the Fire Nation to have someone younger take charge. And considering the limited options and your sister's current . . . issues . . . even I can see that you're the best fit for Fire Lord right now."

Zuko stared at the boy for a long moment, unsure whether to be irritated by the fact that he'd been trying to prove his goodness to everyone for months and it had only taken one conversation with a relative Zou had never met to change his mind, or to be relieved by the boy's change of heart. Finally, he said, "What _exactly_ changed your mind?"

"My grandfather said that people do a lot of stupid things because of hatred." He held up a hand to stop the protest bubbling to Zuko's lips. "Don't misinterpret this. I'm not any more fond of you than I was twelve hours ago. But I've realized there's no point in treating you like a monster when I haven't witnessed it for myself."

"Oh." He slumped into one of the kitchen chairs, closing his eyes. _Well, at least he doesn't plan on killing me. _"Thanks?"

"You're welcome. Now, the next thing we have to address is Azula's ascension to the throne. Even banished, there may be something you can do—"

"I challenged her to an Agni-Kai back at the palace. We're fighting at sunset."

The firebender's eyes flew open. "You challenged _her _to an Agni-Kai?"

"Yes."

The boy opened his mouth, shut it, then plopped down on the floor, holding his head between his hands. "That's . . . You do realize she killed your _father_. In cold blood. In his _sleep_."

"She mentioned that." Azula had been more upset over the ruined sheets than the thought of committing patricide. He had little doubt she'd kill him, too, if it served her purposes.

He wondered, briefly, if he'd be able to do the same. He'd been there when Azula had been a toddler, before their father had warped her into a weapon. He'd known her when she'd been happy, innocent, when she'd laughed at jokes instead of other people's misfortune. How she'd hidden in his room whenever thunderstorms rolled over the Capital.

"This is ill-advised," Zou said.

"I know. But winning is the fastest way to end this war, especially with the condition Aang is in right now."

"And when you fail? What then?"

Zuko stood. "I won't fail."

"What if you do?"

"Enough!" The shout came from behind them, and Zuko looked over to see Katara standing in the doorway, her lips pressed into a thin line. "That's enough. _You _don't get to criticize Zuko," she said, shooting a glance in Zou's direction. "And _you _need to stay focused." Her eyes flashed to his, and he looked down, a lump rising in his throat. In a much calmer voice, she went on. "Aang is in the third bedroom on the right. Zou, I need you to find burn salve and apply it to his injuries every few hours. Also, when he wakes up, make him drink sun poppy tea. He's going to be in a lot of pain, and I might not be back by the time he wakes up. Take care of him. Don't let him move too much. Tell him stories if you have to. Zuko, we have to get going."

"Right." He turned to Zou. "Thanks. I mean it."

"It's not for you. It's for the world."

With a sigh, Zuko headed back outside. The sun glared at him from above, marking the time that had already passed. With renewed urgency, he pulled himself into Appa's saddle and helped Katara up. "Ready?"

She nodded. "Always."

He took the reins, braced himself for takeoff, and looked southwest, toward the Capital. "All right, Appa. Yip-yip."


	70. Clearing up Misunderstandings

_Author's Note:_

_So, after sixty-nine chapters with no smut, I have finally managed to find a good place to add a Zutara lemon to this story. Anyway, I believe my lemons have improved greatly since _The End of Hope, _but you guys will be the judge of that. However, you are free to skip the explicit bits if you aren't comfortable with them. And thanks, as always, to all my loyal readers and reviewers._

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy<p>

The winds were with them; they made excellent time. "Should we wait?" Katara asked, peering through the clouds, at the sprawling Fire Nation capital. "Circle back, find a safe place to hide until sunset?"

Several seconds passed without an answer. Then, Zuko sighed and pulled on one of the reins, guiding Appa away from the caldera. "There are some smaller islands nearby. We'll be safe enough there."

They soared a while longer. After about ten minutes, Zuko guided Appa down to a dense patch of greenery rising from the ocean. Relieved to finally have a break from flying, Katara slid out of the saddle and walked over the beach sand, stretching her legs.

"We can stay here until it's time," Zuko said, searching through the travel bags tied to the saddle. Eventually, he produced a brown sack and opened it up to reveal several pounds of rice. "We should eat, get our strength up."

"I'll get water. There are pots and pans in the blue bag."

They went about their tasks, moving with businesslike efficiency. Katara pulled water from the ocean, purified it so it wasn't so salty, then moved it to one of the pots as Zuko ignited a campfire with a flick of his fingers. As the water warmed, she went to work pulling fish from the water's edge, her arms moving in practiced circles as the disturbed animals flailed inside floating globes of saltwater. When she had enough for a decent meal, she poured the water back into the ocean and picked up the flopping fish.

She turned back toward the fire and caught Zuko staring at her. He looked away, the unscarred side of his face flushing pink. Her heart fluttered. In all the chaos of the past few weeks, she'd almost missed the fact that she'd spent almost no time alone with him. He'd been busy teaching Aang, and she'd been busy caring for more than half a dozen people. _But we're alone now, _she thought, spearing the fish with several metal spits and burying the handles in the sand so they wouldn't fall. _And it might be the last chance we have to be together. _

Her heartbeat accelerated, partly from fear, and partly from desire. With the absence of alone time, she'd had few opportunities to be with him, as she'd wanted to. And the more she thought about it, the faster her heart raced.

"Are you all right?"

Her head snapped up. "Huh?"

"You look worried."

"Oh." She frowned. "Well, yes, that's part of it."

Surprise danced in those golden eyes, mingling with concern. "And the other part?"

She hesitated, then sat down next to him, wrapping her arms around her knees. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, she turned and brushed her lips against the side of his jaw. "I love you," she said, knowing this could be her last chance to say it.

Zuko's surprise turned to alarm, then understanding. "I love you, too," he whispered, turning his head so the corner of his lip brushed against hers. She leaned into the kiss, a shudder running down her back. His hands skimmed across her shoulders, sliding down her ribcage as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Katara . . ."

"Hmm?" Her eyelids fluttered open. His fingertips trailed across the curve of her hips.

He kissed her again, breathing hard. One hand moved from her hip to comb through her hair. _I should've brushed it after we landed, _she thought, as his fingers caught on a tangle. He extricated his hand, pulling back. "Sorry."

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter." Her lips found his again, her eyes closing. "I missed you." _I missed _us_._

Her arms tightened around his neck as she pulled herself onto his lap. His eyebrow disappeared behind his shaggy hair as his eyes flew open. Abruptly, he pulled back, his hands framing her face. She froze, suddenly uncertain. _Does he not want me? _she wondered, her heart quickening again with dread. Spires of ice formed in her stomach. Trying to keep the hurt out of her voice was like trying to abolish the pain of a burn by pretending it wasn't there. "Is this . . . Don't you want to?"

"No! That's not it. I just . . . It's been so long. I wasn't sure if you still . . . wanted me that way."

Her own eyebrows jumped up. "What made you think I wouldn't?"

"It's just . . . I know we haven't had the opportunity to do _this, _but you haven't even brought it up."

"I've been busy." The ache in her heart eased. This misunderstanding, at least, was easy to clear up. "Of course I want you."

"Okay." He planted another kiss on her lips, his arms encircling her. She laid her cheek against his chest, her hands moving across the sculpted muscles of his abdomen as she pushed his shirt out of the way. Zuko raised his arms, allowing her to pull it over his head and toss it aside. Her fingertips traced the familiar terrain of his chest, memorizing every bump and dip. The icy dread of a moment ago melted away as he untied the knots holding her top in place.

After that, it was easy. Her fingers glided down his abdomen, hooking the strings that kept his pants from falling down. She untied them as if she'd done it every day for years. Zuko groaned in relief as she pulled the fabric out of the way. He struggled with the ties binding her skirt together, his nose twitching as he grew frustrated.

A soft smile creased her lips. She tugged on the correct string and the fabric fell away. Zuko gazed at her with something akin to surprise. "What?" she asked, face flushing.

"Nothing."

"No, really, what is it?"

"The knots looked much more complicated from this angle."

A giggle burst through her lips, and she lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle it. Zuko tugged her hand away and planted a kiss on her knuckles before pulling her down to kiss her lips. Her pelvis slid across his, and she met his gaze. His eyes glowed like polished brass, pupils dilating as she moved her hips forward and back, coaxing a reaction out of his body. After a few strokes, he closed his eyes, moaning. She rocked forward, like a wave lapping against the beach, letting him slip inside her. Another moan escaped his lips, louder and more desperate than the last. His fingers knotted in her hair. "Please."

His request melted away the last of her inhibitions. She shifted, contracting around him as he moved deeper. His hips twitched toward her, his skin warming against hers, like an ember stirred to life by the wind.

Their campfire glowed brighter, responding to his desire as she did. Fire and water collided, but rather than creating steam, they balanced each other out. She gentled his sharp movements with slow, rolling thrusts. His touch sparked feelings inside her she only distantly remembered. It had been so long since they'd done this that she'd nearly forgotten what it was like. Nearly forgotten the tightening in her abdomen, the flashes of heat across her skin, the sensitivity shooting across her body like tiny lightning bolts. As the sensation reached a peak, she cried out, lightning rushing up her spine, sizzling in her nerves. Zuko rose to meet her again, his pulse racing under her hands, her skin. He threw his head back, and heat shot through her lower body as he matched her climax.

Katara collapsed on top of him, resting her cheek in the hollow of his throat. Her chest heaved with every breath, and when he rested his hand on the small of her back, she let out a sigh.

"Was that okay?" he asked.

She nodded against his neck. "Yes. Perfect."


	71. The Beginning of the End

_Author's Notes:_

_So, I'd like to apologize in advance about updates for the rest of this month. I'm doing NaNoWriMo(National Novel Writing Month), so I've been busy trying to type 50,000 words of original material and have not had much time/incentive to write anything else. However, I will still attempt to update when I can, and updates should pick up again once I've reached my goal or once November is over. So thanks for sticking with me._

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-One<p>

Crimson smudges marred the horizon as the sun glared over the water. Katara looked out to sea as she gathered the last of their belongings onto Appa's saddle, her lips pulled down into a grim expression. "It's time, isn't it?"

Zuko looked out at the sun, his face unreadable. "Don't worry. The duel won't take long." He heaved the last bag onto Appa's saddle. Katara tied it down so it wouldn't fly off if they turned too fast, then held a hand out to help Zuko into place.

"I'll take the reins," she said, planting one last kiss on the smooth side of his face. Zuko's fingers wrapped around her palm, squeezing it once before his hands fell to his sides. Katara crawled to the front of the saddle and took the reins in her hands, admiring the soft leather on her skin. _This might be the last time we fly, _she thought. Though the Agni-Kai was strictly between Zuko and his sister, Katara had no delusions. If Zuko fell, she would fight. And if she lost then, she would die. "Appa, yip yip."

Air pummeled her face as they took off, making her hair ripple behind her. She'd left it loose except for the thick loops she'd kept to frame her face and the small bun centered at the back of her head. A hybrid of water tribe culture and Fire Nation style.

They flew fast. The sun sank, turning almost red as they flew over the Capital City. They hadn't had far to fly, and when Zuko pointed to a vast open space in the center of the city, she had Appa circle around. "Is this the place?"

"Yeah. The coronation plaza."

Her eyes flickered back to him. The words had sounded so solemn, almost emotionless, but she sensed the significance behind them. Because Zuko wasn't just fighting to end the war. He was fighting to win the throne. _To win peace for all of us, _she thought as Appa descended. They landed the same way they'd landed so many times before—by stirring up a cloud of dust when Appa's feet hit the ground.

She slid off the saddle, stroking the flying bison's face. "If we don't make it through this, find Sokka," she said. "He'll know what to do."

Appa's body vibrated with a low, almost sad rumble, so perhaps he understood. Katara turned toward the center of the plaza, looking around for the Fire Nation princess. The top quarter of the sun still peeked above the horizon, though it was harder to see around the buildings. _Azula __should be here by now, _Katara thought, just as Zuko voiced the same worry. "Where is she?"

"I don't know." Unease stirred in her stomach, as if she'd eaten tainted oysters. "Should we wait, or do you think it's a trap?"

Zuko frowned, seeming to contemplate that. After a moment, he said, "I think she's playing games with me. She wants me agitated, out of control, so I won't be able to fight on the same level as her." His frown deepened.

She laid a hand on his shoulder. "But you won't fall for it."

"Right." His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the plaza again. "Regardless, she'll be here within the next few minutes. Being late to an Agni-Kai is an automatic forfeit."

_And Azula doesn't forfeit anything. _Neither of them said the words, but they hung in the air as clearly as if someone had. "I'm going to lead Appa out of here," she said, taking the bison's reins. "He hates fire."

Zuko said nothing, staring out across the battlefield.

She didn't go far. Just behind the buildings that circled the coronation plaza. Appa followed without even a grumble, passing through the narrow passages between buildings.

Katara had always heard that animals often sensed disaster before humans could. That was why the fishermen of the water tribe regarded a tiger seal sighting as a symbol of good luck—and the absence of tiger seals as impending misfortune. She couldn't help but connect those memories with Appa's willingness to leave the plaza. "Be good and stay here," she said, patting the bison's moist nose. _We might need to get out of here quickly if things go bad. _

She turned, ready to head back to the plaza, then froze, rooted to the ground by surprise. A figure leaned against the side of a building, staring at her with dark, empty eyes.

Katara frowned and walked over to him. "Zou, what are you doing here?"

The younger boy said nothing. Instead, his hand whipped out, moving so fast that it blurred. His fist slammed into her temple, throwing her into a daze. Katara had just enough time to wonder how he'd gotten here before she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

><p>When Katara didn't return after several minutes, a pool of worry settled in Zuko's stomach. He paced back and forth, then realized there was no point in letting his anxiety show. Azula would be here in minutes, and the end of the war hinged on his ability to keep a level head while they fought.<p>

_Katara's just taking Appa out of fireball range, _he told himself, fingers curling and uncurling as he tried to regain his previous calm. Uncle's lessons on meditation drifted through his mind, and he sat cross-legged, forcing himself to breathe deeply despite the uncomfortable pressure in his lungs.

Naturally, that was when Azula showed up. Her voice pierced the silent plaza, sharp as a poisoned arrow. "I'm surprised, Zu-zu. I've never seen you relax before."

His eyes had snapped open on the first syllable, and by the end, he was on his feet. "Azula," he said, greeting her with as much dignity as he could muster.

She snickered. "Where's the water tribe peasant? Playing in a puddle somewhere?"

"Not here." _Not here. Where is she? _

"How unfortunate. It seems you'll die alone today."

He scowled, then forced his features back into a controlled mask. He would not let his sister sense the growing ember of anxiety burning away inside his chest. He would not let her see weakness in him. Not today. "Are we going to get started or not?" he demanded.

"So temperamental. It's a poor quality for a leader. Makes you prone to rash decisions." A grin curved up her lips, and even at a distance, he could imagine the way her eyes would flare with anticipation. Azula lived for the fight, for the blood. She wouldn't hesitate to send a bolt of lightning through his heart if she thought it would secure her crown.

Zuko took a deep breath. "It's sunset. I'm ready."

"Fine." Azula beckoned to a building on the edge of the plaza. Five men in red robes emerged from an alleyway, striding forward with an eerie sort of grace, their long, white beards nearly brushing the ground. The Fire Sages.

"You brought witnesses."

"Of course, Zu-zu. Witnesses are an essential part of the Agni-Kai. Or have you been away so long that you've forgotten that little tradition?"

He thought of the chamber in the palace where his father had burned off half his face. The room had been packed, nobility and royal citizens crowding into the chairs to watch him, perhaps knowing he'd been doomed to fail. No, he hadn't forgotten the tradition of spectators. But he wished he had.

"I remember. But this Agni-Kai won't end up like my first."

"No." Azula stepped forward. "When this duel is over, you'll be dead and I'll be Fire Lord." She turned and walked to the opposite end of the plaza. One of the Fire Sages followed, handing her a crimson cloth embroidered with the ceremonial patterns. Another broke off from the pack to give him the same. When the old man approached, Zuko froze, eyes zeroing in on his face. _Fire Sage Hakko, _he thought, remembering the day the old man had crowned his father. As he approached, Zuko inclined his head, a formal acknowledgment of the older man's position.

Fire Sage Hakko handed him the ceremonial cloth. And though Zuko had considered the Fire Sage old when Ozai had been coronated, the bearded man now looked as ancient as the stars themselves. Withered hands folded around Zuko's palm as the man spoke. "Be not afraid of the fire in your path. Be wary instead of the dragon hunting you."

Zuko nodded, accepting the words as the closest thing he'd get to an encouragement for this battle. Then, he stripped off his shirt and draped the ceremonial cloth over his shoulders, just as he'd done for the Agni-Kai with his father, and later, with Zhao.

The plaza fell silent. The Fire Sages reconvened at the outer edge of the plaza, sandwiching themselves between two stone buildings. Their leader called out the command to begin, the words clear despite his advanced age.

Zuko turned to face his sister.


	72. Family, Duty, Honor

Chapter Seventy-Two

It was, Azula thought, almost like a game. As the ceremonial cloth fell from her shoulders, she raised her hands, palms open, and smiled. Across the plaza, Zuko did the same. For a moment, they paused, waiting for the other to start the dance. Some duels lasted for hours. Others lasted only as long as it took to for a man to breathe in.

The stillness shattered. Azula lunged forward and sent a fireball toward her brother. She expected him to dodge, to roll out of the way, to flee. Instead, he held his ground, waiting until the fireball had reached him to deflect it. It separated into two fiery streaks, branching off to his sides. As soon as it had dissipated, he darted forward. Azula spun, flames spreading out from her heel in an arc. This time, Zuko leapt into the air, flipping forward once before landing on his feet, much closer than he'd been a moment ago.

_He's gotten better, _Azula thought, lips pressing into a thin line. She didn't compliment her opponents. She mocked them. But as Zuko launched several fireballs in rapid succession, she was forced to admit that he wasn't the failure of a firebender he'd been just a few months ago.

_Still, _she thought, making a show of leaping in the air to avoid the attack. _I'm the better bender. The better heir. The better everything. _

She stuck her hand out, sending another arc of fire toward her brother, and their dance continued.

* * *

><p>Zou hadn't expected the bison to be a problem. But as soon as Katara dropped to the ground, Appa let out a bellow to rival a dragon's roar. Zou jumped back, raising his hands. Appa's snarl deepened as he lumbered forward, fur bristling.<p>

On the ground, the waterbender groaned, already stirring. Zou hesitated half a breath, then decided the approaching monster was the greater threat. "Stay back," he warned, slipping into a fighting stance. "I don't want to hurt you, but I will."

The bison's only response was to bare his teeth.

_Not good, _he thought, stepping around Katara. A flame ignited in front of his palm, growing brighter as he focused on it. He'd overheard the waterbender talking about how afraid the creature was of fire—after all, it would've been sort of pointless to tail them this far without eavesdropping on their plan of action. But he figured this had been the most effective way to accomplish what he needed to accomplish.

The royal family would vanish from the world like a dying ember. He'd already sent a messenger hawk to his father from Ember Island's rookery with a message to his father. Honor ran deep in the Fire Nation, and though he hated the man, advancing one's family in the noble hierarchy was one of the most reliable ways to gain prestige and power. And, he'd decided as he'd waited for the prince to return to Ember Island, it would be a lot easier for his wealthy, noble family to take the throne if all other obstacles were gone.

Family. Duty. Honor. Zou understood them, knew they came at a price. And the price for it all was that he'd push his family to the top knowing they would never acknowledge his role in their success. But they would fix the problems the last few Fire Lords had brought on with this war, though he probably wouldn't survive long enough to see it happen. He'd betrayed both his new allies and Lady Ursa for a family that had rejected him. But though his grandfather had condemned his father, the man had also abandoned his own daughter. Pushed her away. Abandoned her. And in turn, the same woman had abandoned him on the doorstep of a man who had never and would never approve of his existence.

And then his grandfather had had the gall to say that family looked out for each other. He'd abandoned his own daughter and claimed that people didn't abandon their families.

Zou would not abandon his family. His noble siblings weren't so bad. Once their father moved on to the Spirit World, Zou had no doubts that they'd become superb rulers. And unlike the Earth King's dozens of relatives and cousins, the Fire Nation royal family had dwindled to only a handful of heirs. Once they were gone, it would be a mad rush for the crown. And with the warning Zou had sent out just a few hours ago, he had little doubt that his father would be the first to mobilize and the last standing on the battlefield.

Only a few feet away now, the bison huffed, still growling. The flame hovering in front of Zou's hand brightened, and he sent several puffs of fire toward the bison, warning him off. Appa drew back, legs tangling under him in his retreat.

Zou supposed it was a stroke of luck that Appa feared fire.

"Get back," he said, keeping his voice low. He could hear the hiss of flames from the plaza, the noise of the dueling siblings. His whole plan hinged on Zuko's victory. If Azula won, she would have no reason to come after the waterbender, and would return to the palace with a crown on her head and an army of trained soldiers guarding her doorstep.

No, Zuko had to win. Everything depended on it.

The bison snarled. Zou advanced, sending tufts of flame into the air in front of him. With each burst, the monster shrank back, its growls increasing in volume for a time, then lowering to their previous level. When the creature's tail brushed against the wall of another building, it roared again, turning toward Katara as if pleading for help. Still dazed from the blow to the head, the waterbender merely groaned in response, rolling over on the cobblestones.

Zou advanced another step, sent a burst of fire toward the bison's face so the creature would feel the heat of the flames. Abruptly, the behemoth rocketed into the sky, roaring as he went.

Zou watched him fly away, then walked over to the waterbender, pulled the coil of rope out of his bags, and bound her arms behind her back. Her glassy eyes rolled up to meet his. "Why?" she whispered.

"I'm sorry" was all he said.

* * *

><p>Zuko met his sister's fire the way an earthbender would have met any assault—he raised a wall of flame and let it absorb the impact. Embers, blue and orange, flew from the center of the battlefield as Azula's attack met his wall of fire. As the attacks canceled each other out, he took a defensive stance, waiting for his sister's next strike.<p>

Instead, she taunted him. "What's the matter, Zuko? Too scared to fight back?"

He said nothing, letting the comment wash over him like an ocean wave rolling over his toes. Embers fell all around him, like soot falling from a volcanic ash cloud.

"Not going to say anything?" Azula asked, her smirk splitting her face in some parody of a smile. He'd known his sister had always been a little _off_, and that their father's influence probably hadn't helped, but he still hadn't expected such a drastic change from the prodigy he'd grown up with.

Azula was cruel. Azula was calculating. Azula was cold. And now, seeing her wide, bloodshot eyes and lip-stretching grin, Zuko concluded that Azula was also _insane_.

"I don't have to say anything," he said. "You know how this fight has to end."

Somehow, her smirk widened even further. "Are you saying it's _destiny _that you defeat me, brother? That just because you were born first and had your little fallen hero journey that you can take the crown from me? I always knew Mom read you too many bedtime stories, but that's just pathetic."

His fists tightened at the mention of their mother. Naturally, Azula's pounced on his moment of weakness. "You know, Zu-zu, it's not a bad consolation prize—to know that Mom always loved you best. It almost makes up for the fact that I was father's favorite. Almost. But the fact is, Zuko, when this is over, I'm going to be sitting on my throne with a brigade of servants tending to my every whim, and you'll be a corpse, waiting to be picked up by some poor laborer who will send you off to be cremated."

He forced his hands to relax. "Are you done?"

"Done?" Her eerie grin returned. A brittle chuckle escaped her throat. "Oh, Zu-zu, the game's just getting started."


	73. A Question of Morality

Chapter Seventy-Three

Greasy black smudges obscured her vision, as white-hot sparks of pain shot through her head. Katara moaned, disoriented by the shock almost as much as the blow. Her temple throbbed, the flesh already swelling, becoming discolored.

It was, she thought, just a little bit annoying. Not by the pain, though that came with its own trials, but with the fact that she hadn't seen the attack coming in time to stop it.

It was because Zou had been her ally, she decided. Not her friend—he'd treated Zuko so poorly since the two had met—but an ally she'd trusted. _I should've been smarter, _she thought, opening her eyes and finding one eye blind. She hoped it was from the swelling and not from some deeper problem, though she figured, with everything else going wrong, it wouldn't be too surprising if she ended up losing an eye over this.

She shook her head to clear the dismal thoughts away, then groaned when the movement sent sickening waves of agony through her skull.

"Don't worry," said a voice. Her good eye panned up to see Zou. "I won't hurt you."

"A little late for that," she said. Or at least, that was what she tried to say. The words came out as a mush, her tongue clumsy from the unexpected blow to the head. _I can't believe he just _did_ that, _she thought. The insulating shock hadn't worn off enough for her to feel betrayed yet, though she could feel a strange mixture of anger and distress bubbling up beyond the wall of surprise.

And the ropes around her wrist were just insulting. _Why would he do that? _she wondered. _Why not just knock me out again? It's much less likely to backfire on him than leaving me awake. _She frowned, noting with some surprise that the buildings around her were moving. Or maybe she was moving. She wasn't sure. _It must be me. Buildings don't move. So where am I going? _She looked at Zou again, and this time, her anger spiked. "Where are you taking me? Let me go!"

"Please be quiet."

"If this is some cheap shot to get back at Zuko for whatever you think he's done to you—"

"It's not. I'm taking you to the Capital City's rookery."

Annoyed, she rubbed her wrists against the rope binding them together. If Zou was stupid enough to think he could take her on, she would . . . she would . . . _But he did take you on, _said the rational part of her mind. _And you ended up unconscious with your hands tied behind your back._

She scowled. "Why the rookery?" she demanded, stalling. "Are you going to tie me to a bunch of messenger hawks and have them deliver me to—"

"No," he snapped. His black eyes fell on her face, swimming with annoyance and something she couldn't identify. "Your role in this is incidental. You're bait."

"Bait," she repeated. Her disorientation faded, leaving only the fierce ache in her head. "I'm _bait_? For who? Zuko?"

"That's right."

"You're _crazy_."

"I suppose that's a justified response, given your position." His voice softened. "I'm only doing what I think is right."

"How is this right?" she demanded, trying to sit up, then lying back down when a wave of dizziness crashed over her. When she recovered, she realized she was lying on a large, rolling mattress. _Where did he even _get _this? _she wondered. _Did he bring it with him? How did he get it here? How did _he _get here? _She frowned, unused to being so out of the loop.

"Sometimes I wonder," Zou said, voice soft, as if he was speaking only for his own benefit. "Is there ever really a clear right and wrong? Or is it just a matter of choosing your priorities?"

"Of course there's a right and a wrong," she said. There had to be. Without a clear right and wrong, there would be no justice, no distinction between heroes and villains, no standard upon which to evaluation one's actions.

"But you see, it's more complicated than that. What if what's right for one person is wrong for someone else? What if you have to make a choice between following your beliefs and helping your family? One choice betrays everything you hold dear, but the other jeopardizes both your honor and the people you're supposed to care about. How do you tell the difference between right and wrong in that situation?"

"Zou, listen to me." She kept wriggling her arms, hoping the ropes would come loose. Already, they were cutting into her wrists, leaving the skin bloody, abraded. _I can use that, _she thought, even as she tried to reason with him. "Just stop and think about this for a second. You must know this isn't the right path."

"I'm sorry, Katara. I have my priorities."

_He's not even listening, _she thought, frustrated. _I need to try a different angle. _"There are going to be repercussions for this. You can't win against Zuko. He proved that in your Agni-Kai. And even if you could, the rest of my friends are never going to forgive you."

"I'm not expecting them to forgive me. I'm not _looking _for forgiveness."

"Then what are you looking for?"

He hesitated, mouth opening and closing once before he managed an answer. "For my family. To do what's right for them, even if it's not right for me."

"Okay. I understand wanting to make your family happy. But what does that have to do with me or Zuko?"

"If Zuko wins the Agni-Kai against his sister, he will become the uncontested Fire Lord. Now, working under the assumption that he _does _win, he'll come looking for you. When he realizes you've been taken, he'll scour the area until he finds you. That's why I'm taking you halfway across town to the rookery—I need some time for this to work. You see, I contacted my father while I was waiting on Ember Island. He holds a high military position, and he's the head of one of the more prestigious noble families in the Fire Nation. He's got the resources and the ambition to remove the prince from power."

"Remove him from power? How do you . . ." She trailed off, realization slamming into her like a punch to the temple. _Oh, _she thought, horror slithering down her back. _He means killing Zuko._ Nausea curled in her stomach, a spasm of grief rocking her heart even at the _thought _of losing him. _It would be like losing Aang again, _she thought. _Only worse. There's no chance of Zuko coming back from that. __And if he's gone, the power vacuum will fill up with the top military experts in the Fire Nation. The war won't _stop_. There will never be peace. Zuko will be dead. _"Oh," she said again. The word sounded so inadequate.

They stopped beside a cylindrical brick building. Resignation flickered across Zou's face, and Katara could almost believe he felt bad about what he was doing. "I do regret this," he whispered, bowing his head. "I never meant for things to happen like this. But I'm running out of options, and this is the only thing I can do now. I _can't _let any son of Ozai's sit on the throne. I just can't."

"You're making a mistake."

"It's only a mistake if it doesn't go as planned."

"You're wrong!" she said, hating how her voice broke. "You're wrong. This _is _a mistake. You can't possibly believe you're doing the right thing!"

The regret seeped from his face, leaving behind the dispassionate mask of a man pushed to the edge. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so young. _Well, Sokka did say Zou was working on a lobstercrab boat when they met, _she thought, a bolt of pain searing through her skull. _Maybe that's how he grew so strong. But being strong doesn't make him unstoppable. I can still fight him. __If I can just get my hands free . . ._

"Walk," he said, resting one hand between her shoulder blades and nudging her toward the rookery. Inside, she could hear dozens of messenger hawks squawking as they waited to perform their jobs.

Katara walked inside, waiting for the opportunity to strike back.


	74. The Last Agni-Kai

_Author's Notes:_

_Hey, guys. Sorry about the lack of updates. I'm having one of those months where everything I write seems like utter crap. Anyway, I'm writing the first draft for the next chapter now, so expect that in a few days. Thanks for your patience, and special thanks to those of you who have or will review!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-Four<p>

Zuko ducked low as an arc of fire sailed above his head. _Too close, _he thought, his foot shooting out as he went down. Flames exploded from his heel, streaking toward his sister. She ran straight toward the fire, then leapt over it, flipping in midair with nearly as much grace as Ty Lee would have, had Ty Lee been born a firebender. _Azula may be crazy, but that doesn't make her less dangerous. _He rose back into a fighting stance, his hair falling over his face. He hadn't had the time, or the desire, to tie it back into the formal topknot common in the Fire Nation.

Considering the fact that if he lost, he'd be branded as a traitor in the history books, he supposed that was appropriate.

Azula unleashed another stream of fire. Zuko changed stances, raising his hand, palm out. Hot air rushed toward him. He shifted forward, splitting the attack with a small stream of his own fire so Azula's flames veered off to his sides. They curled along the ground, glowing blue for a few seconds more before fading to orange. Embers floated all around him.

_Keep moving. You have to make her think she's wearing you down. _He ran forward, his movements purposely slow, and kicked at the air, sending half a dozen small fireballs toward Azula. She sidestepped them all, simultaneously releasing a barrage of her own.

Zuko waited, watching the fireballs shoot toward him. Azula had spread them out so he wouldn't be able to escape them by darting off to the side, but the individual fireballs were too closely spaced for him to dodge in between.

His uncle had once taught him to look at the other elements in order to develop a more balanced style of fighting. Lightning redirection wasn't the only thing he'd learned during that conversation, though he'd spent days after stubbornly focusing on that aspect of the lesson. But he'd learned things from watching his friends practice. And he knew at least one element that was held just as many defensive techniques as offensive techniques.

He stepped sideways, moving between a pair of fireballs. His hand swept one to the side, wrist turning smoothly as he took something that was already there and redirected it, like a waterbender changing the flow of a stream. The fireball veered away from him. He spun, heat pouring over his body as the fire shifted around him. He released the fireball, letting it continue on its changed path. His gentle twirl sped up, the movements growing sharp, defined. A line of fire exploded from his heel, following his rotation to form an arc.

On the other side of the battlefield, Azula shot into the air, spinning wildly. Fire flew from her fists, her feet, even her mouth. She avoided his attack, but landed with a jarring impact, her knee slamming into the ground. A hiss broke through her teeth, barely audible over the constant roar of flames, and her too-wide smile faltered.

_It's time to end this, _he thought. "What's the matter, Azula? No lightning today?"

Her grin returned, fierce, wild, insane. Her bloodshot eyes opened wide, and he saw the shadows under them. She limped forward, shoulders hunched even as her arms rotated, electricity dancing across her fingertips. "I show _you_ lightning!" The air around her crackled, sparks flying from her fingertips. Her arm swung in one final arc, her fingers extending as she prepared to strike. Zuko raised his own arm, getting ready to redirect the bolt.

The air in front of Azula exploded, throwing her back in a cloud of smoke and embers. She snarled, shoulders slamming into the ground as she tried to regain her footing. As she stood, a strange, horrified look crossed her face. Her lips twitched, the smile absent. Her hands trembled.

Disquiet rippled through him. _She's faking it. She has to be. _

The horror shifted to cold fury. "Shut up!" she yelled into the air, taking several uneven steps forward. "Shut up! Shut _up_! You don't know anything!"

Zuko lowered his hands half an inch.

Azula's body jerked, like a marionette being yanked to the side. Without warning, she lunged forward, sparks flying from her fingertips. A thin lightning bolt shot from her hand, fizzling out after only a few feet. "Impossible," she whispered, shaking. Her gaze turned to his face. "What did you _do_ to me?"

_She can't generate lightning anymore, _he realized, watching her warily, as one might watch a wounded animal. A shriek burst through her lips. She flung an arm out, sending a wide arc of flame in his direction. He countered it with a smaller, vertical blast, splitting the line of fire well before it reached him.

"What have you _done_?" Azula demanded, waves of flame rolling across the ground around her, like ripples in a pond. "You did something! I know you did something!"

He threw his hands up. "I didn't do anything!"

"Liar. _Liar!_" Her fist shot forward, and a massive fireball shot in his direction. As soon as it strayed from Azula's immediate range, however, the blue flames turned orange, dissipating. "It's the mind games, isn't it? You're trying to throw me off-balance with that stupid, calm act of yours. Well, it won't work. I'm _better _than you. I don't lose my temper. I was father's favorite. _I deserve this more than you do!_" Her last words broke apart, voice rattling with a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Azula . . ." _She's losing it. She's _actually_ losing her mind. _He hesitated, shaken. His sister had always been the prodigy, always been in control. To see her now, unable to throw lightning, hair in disarray, eyes bloodshot and shadowed by a lack of sleep . . . it disturbed him.

_This is wrong, _he thought. _We shouldn't be fighting. I was supposed to protect her. I wasn't supposed to let this happen to her. _

But he had, he realized. Even before his banishment, he'd turned away from her. Watched her become their father's favorite. Watched her grow colder and crueler as the years passed, not realizing how Ozai had manipulated them both into competing for his attention. Watched her turn callous even to those she supposedly held dear. _And I did nothing. _

"Azula . . . Let's stop this."

"Stop?" She looked up, her eyes wide, uncomprehending.

"Our father turned us against each other. If you surrender now, maybe we can fix that."

She blinked slowly, tilting her head to the side. "Fix . . . What are you _talking_ about?"

"All of it. We'll get you professional help." _If there's even a professional for this kind of thing. _He shoved the thought aside.

"Professional help?" she echoed, her voice eerily empty. "For me? For what?" Suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

"Well . . . No," he lied. "But maybe if—"

"I'm not crazy! They just won't stop _talking_. They won't leave me alone, even though they're all dead. They must be dead. Except Mother. She was just here a few hours ago. She's not dead. Is she?" Blankness replaced the fury in her voice. "Unless there were two of her, talking at the same time. But that's never happened. No one can be in two places at once, not even a spirit." She swayed for a moment, looking around as if lost.

"Mom's alive," he said, hoping to comfort her.

"Well, I wish she was dead," Azula snapped. Zuko flinched. "She hated me. Don't look at me like that—I know she did. She called me a monster."

He raised one hand in a soothing gesture. "She didn't mean it."

"Oh, how would _you _know?" Azula huffed, as if he'd just made a particularly stupid comment. "Honestly, Zu-zu, you barely knew her. You saw how much she _loved _you and that's what you believed. But you were wrong. I'm not the monster. _She _was. She shouldn't have abandoned us. She was weak, spineless. She betrayed us."

"Azula—"

"Don't interrupt," she snapped, her back rigid, chin raised. As if she'd regained control of herself. Yet he could still see the unbalanced look in her eyes, sharp as a dagger and cold as the North Pole. He could still see the madness. "It doesn't matter anymore. I won't surrender. So let's finish this duel, brother." She took a fighting stance, fire blooming above her hands.

_It's no good. She can't be reasoned with. _Zuko shifted into a defensive stance. As soon as he did, Azula shot forward, walls of fire rising at her sides as she ran. He waited, expecting her to stop when she came within mid-range. Instead, she plowed forward, nails streaking within inches of his face. Startled, Zuko jumped back, raising a hand to block her next assault. Her forearm slammed into his, pushing him back.

He'd forgotten how strong she was.

He shifted to the side. Azula drew back, putting several feet between them as they circled. "Tell me, Zu-zu: do you _really _believe you can beat me?"

"Yes!"

She smirked, and for a moment, she almost looked like her old self. "You're going to have to do better. Was that lightning in Ba Sing Se just a fluke? Are you too emotionally conflicted to repeat that success?"

"No," he said, almost wincing at how petulant he'd sounded.

"Then why don't you amaze all of us with a demonstration? Unless you can't do it. Wouldn't that be embarrassing? A Fire Lord who can't even generate lightning."

He scowled. Azula smirked. They circled each other like tigerdillos. Then suddenly Azula shifted forward, feinting to the left before driving her dagger-like nails into his abdomen. He jumped back, barely avoiding the plume of fire that shot out of her hand.

"Yes, a Fire Lord who can't generate lightning," she whispered, voice barely audible over the roaring flames. "How pathetic." She lunged again, this time aiming for his face. He sidestepped her assault, dodging the stream of fire that went with it. But rather than a pure stream of blue, the edges of the fire burned orange, flaring out from the main line like threads in a frayed rope. _I can beat her, _he thought, a stream of fire shooting from his hand. Azula ducked to the side, but the flames singed the frizzy edges of her hair. She bared her teeth, lashing at his face.

_This has to end now, _he thought, fingers curling into a fist. Azula was close enough now that she wouldn't be able to evade an attack—only block. And blocking wasn't a skill Azula had ever needed.

His body twisted, his fist shooting forward as fire danced across his knuckles. Flames erupted from his hand, shooting out in a wide stream.

Azula didn't even try to dodge. She just stared as the fire exploded in her face.


	75. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Chapter Seventy-Five

"How did you get here so fast?" Katara demanded, picking at the ropes with her thumbnail. Her wrists ached from the awkward angle, and her pulse pounded in her thumb. She ignored the discomfort—the rope had started to fray where she scratched at it, and blood dripped down her abraded wrists, ready to bend as soon as she got her hands free. "You were on Ember Island. There's no way you found a boat fast enough to beat us here."

"You're right. But after the Fire Nation colonized the nearby Earth Kingdom islands, Ember Island turned into an island paradise, where nobles built vacation homes and retired soldiers went to relax. And with relaxation came recreation, in the form of steam-powered jet skis."

She arched an eyebrow. "Jet skis?"

"You've probably never seen them," Zou said, shrugging. "Mostly, they're used for the Fire Nation's domestic army. They don't patrol the outer edges of the country much. But with Ember Island, you've got a bunch of rich old men with teenage kids and grand-kids begging them for a ride on that old equipment. So islanders make family-friendly models for vacationers to rent. That's how I got here."

Katara frowned. She'd never seen a jet ski, didn't even know what they looked like. _But they must be fast. Even with our detour, Zou only would've been able to intercept me here if he'd arrived around the time when Zuko and I landed. _She flexed her fingers, grimacing at the tingling sensation in her hands. Zou regarded her for a few seconds, cocking his head to the side. "What's wrong?"

"You tied these ropes too tight. My hands are tingling."

Zou started to stand, then hesitated. Around him, caged messenger hawks squawked and flapped their wings, battering against the cage doors as if they thought he was going to release them. He threw a glance toward the cages, then sat down again. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you here in the first place. But this is for my family."

She scowled, sitting back and resuming her previous efforts to loosen the ropes around her wrists. Everyone in their ragtag group knew about Zou's status—a bastard born into a noble family that cared little for his existence. Once, Katara had pitied him for it. Now, she tried to use it to her advantage. "I thought you resented your family."

"I do." Zou paused, then sighed. "It's a bit more complicated than that. Just because you resent someone doesn't make you stop looking for their approval. My father . . . By Fire Nation standards, my father is a great man. Noble, ruthless, strategic. He would've risen even higher had he believed in Ozai's agenda."

Katara perked up, curiosity overshadowing her determination for just a moment. "So you can disagree with the Fire Lord without being executed or banished?"

Zou blinked. "Of course. We do have freedom of speech. We're just taught from birth that the Fire Lord _isn't _wrong."

"So you're not punished at all?"

"Well . . . you still have to be careful about how you say something, otherwise a comment could be interpreted as treasonous, but . . . Actually, that's one of the reasons my father didn't like Ozai's policies, though they got along well enough apart from that."

"So why join the resistance movement, if your father was already working against Ozai?" she asked, interrupting whatever he'd been about to say. "Wouldn't it be easier to invest yourself in politics instead of searching the world for another way to topple the country?"

"I left for personal reasons." Zou stood, pacing the length of the room. The birds continued to squawk. "As you might imagine, the environment at my household was . . . perilous, for someone in my position."

"Oh." She looked down. "Right."

"Anyway, part of Ozai's campaigns involved the suppression of free speech. It was subtle, to begin with—protests were kept quiet, and rebellious statements were altered in official records to better reflect the greatness of the Fire Nation. Dissenters numbered in the hundreds, at most. When you grow up learning that royalty is infallible, you don't question your rulers. But restrictions were looser in the noble houses, where people actually read the altered documents, and sometimes even altered those documents themselves." He shook his head. "Corruption burned through the nobility like wildfire. Power and prestige enticed even those who knew their peers and underlings were being oppressed, meaning that those people beneath them continued to be as unenlightened as they'd been for years. Ozai praised those who followed him, giving them advantages dissenters couldn't obtain, and soon, the promise of money led most noble families to sacrifice some of their freedoms for short-term benefits."

Zou paused. Katara spoke. "So, was your father part of the resistance, then? I mean the one you were part of."

He hesitated. "No. My father was a personal friend of Ozai's, though they disagreed often during political gatherings. They were both ruthless, cruel, even abusive. If not for their personal relationship and my father's connections with the previous Fire Lord, Ozai would never have let him rise as high as he did. But for years, I studied politics from my father, trying to make him accept me, even though I could never be heir to anything. It took me a long time to realize that my father's disapproval didn't affect his actions. He disagreed with Ozai's agenda, yes, but only on a political level, not enough to stir up any real trouble. In all other ways, my father supported Ozai's reign. He approve new suppression policies when pressured, organized political gatherings in which Ozai's more fanatical followers could preach about his greatness, even funded armies to slay earthbenders and other enemies in territories that, on paper, belonged to our family. Any influence my father—any of my family—had over the Fire Nation wouldn't be felt for many years. And with Sozin's Comet coming, change needed to come sooner. The Fire Nation was burning away from within. Someone had to save it."

"And you wanted that someone to be you." Katara nodded, absorbed by the story even as she continued picking at the ropes.

"Human beings are slaves to their own arrogance. I knew I couldn't face the Fire Lord head-on. I couldn't even face my father." A bitter smile creased his lips, fading as quickly as it had come. "But I played my part. Maybe joining the resistance was the wrong move. Maybe I could've made larger ripples sticking with my family and working from within. My own arrogance, my pride, drove me to seek out the Avatar, to take down the royal family, to bring success and prosperity to myself and my own family. I succeeded with the first, though the Avatar's escape after the Day of Black Sun was achieved by the resistance. My role was mostly incidental. But if I succeed today . . . if I can exterminate the remainder of the royal family . . . maybe there I'll find redemption."

Katara bit back the impulse to tell him he was wrong. Zuko wasn't evil—he was going to become Fire Lord and change the world for the better. _If he wins the Agni-Kai, _she thought, uncertainty piercing her chest like a spear.

Zou glanced in her direction, as if suddenly remembering she was there. "Do you understand now why I'm doing this? Why I _have_ to do this?"

She looked away. "I understand why you _think _you have to do this," she said, tugging against the ropes. They felt a little looser than before, but she still couldn't quite manage to slip her hands free. "But killing Zuko—killing _anyone—_is only going to add more hatred and pain to the world. Believe me, I know." She thought of Yon Rha, how she'd spared him that day in the rain. How she had chosen not to take another life, even one so empty and pitiful as his. _The only thing I would've accomplished was revenge, _she thought. _I would've __become__ a monster. _

Zou hesitated. "I wish it didn't have to be this way. But I'm out of options. I _will _see to it that no spawn of Ozai's sits on the throne."

"You're making a mistake."

"I've made a lot of mistakes," Zou said, meeting her gaze. "This isn't one of them."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_Believe me: I want to kill Zou as much as you do. But I'm still thinking about how the ending is going to play out, so I have to leave certain options available to me. Gah! How I wish I'd had the foresight to kill this plot thread in its early days._


	76. A Name to Remember

_Author's Note:_

_This chapter revolves around a plot point introduced in the second half of chapter eighteen of _The End of Hope_(the fic preceding this one). Since it's been so long, I figured I would make note of it here so it wouldn't seem to come completely out of the blue. So, if you start to feel confused about what's going on in this chapter, you may want to look back through chapter eighteen of _The End of Hope_._

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-Six<p>

A wall of orange obscured her field of vision, radiating heat. Azula closed her eyes, her body rejecting the sensation of flames devouring her face. Too much. The pain was obscene. Impossible. Her mind put up a wall to keep her from it.

That wall crumbled, and the world exploded in red agony.

A scream shredded her throat, breaking through lips that bubbled and hissed like a pot of soup left to boil over. Her body lurched backward. Her hands flew up to cover her face. The orange light obliterated everything else, so for a moment, nothing else existed except fire and pain and the sound of her screams.

_I wonder if this is how that handmaid felt when I torched her to death, _Azula thought, the dark-haired girl's face flitting through her mind. She remembered that moment: blue fire crawling across the girl's freckled cheeks, singing her hair, creeping across her face. It had been right after Ty Lee had defected from the Fire Nation to fight with the Avatar's friends. _What was that servant's name? _Azula wondered. _I knew it before. I remember seeing her flinch when I called her by name that day. So what was it? _The thought had troubled her for months now, wiggling into her thoughts at the most inopportune times. She was a princess—the death of one commoner should have been beneath her. Except . . . She had caused that death. That inexperienced handmaid had been the first person she'd ever killed by her own hand.

_What was her name? La Rin? Tae Lin? _Her eyebrows—or what would have been her eyebrows, had she had any hair left on her seared face - slanted downward. _No, none of those. It had an "M" in it. What was her name?_

Her vision cleared a little, though she could make out only hazy outlines. A face as pale as an albino raccoon-dog. Buildings looming over her like uncaring gods as the pain continued to consume her. _Wasn't that girl named after one of my ancestors? _Azula thought, referencing the family tree in her mind. Distantly, she heard Zuko shouting above her, calling her name with the same anguished panic he'd once used when, as young children, he had accidentally burned her while they'd sparred. It had only happened once or twice—she'd surpassed him quickly, in less than a year—but she recognized that tone.

_Ilah? No. It didn't start with a vowel. Sa Rin? Close . . . _

"Azula! _Azula_! Damn it. Somebody, get a healer!"

_Shut up, Zuko, _Azula tried to say. Her lips wouldn't move. In fact, they seemed to be stuck together, for some reason.

"Oh, Agni," Zuko whispered. Dimly, she was aware of the tremor in his voice as he knelt beside her. _Zu-zu was always such a crybaby. Father was right to banish him. He was weak. _

She went back to her task, struggling to remember. That damn handmaid . . . She'd had a name. And Azula didn't forget names, particularly not significant names.

"Think Azula," someone said, and this voice didn't belong to her brother. Above her, Mai appeared, her figure much sharper than anything else in her field of vision. "If it's important to you, you'll be able to remember her name."

_Her . . . name. _For some reason, it was getting harder to think straight. It had happened months ago. The girl hadn't been significant. But she'd burned as if her flesh had been made of candle wax.

"It doesn't look good," said a new, unfamiliar voice. "She may not make it."

"I don't care!" Zuko snapped. "Bring someone here who can help her!"

Retreating footsteps. Anxious murmurs. _Damn, why can't I remember that girl's name? _She inhaled, the tiny movement taking more effort than she'd expected.

"Call her face back to your mind," Mai said, her image shivering a little, becoming indistinct. Azula tried, blinking slowly. Her eyes burned as if someone had pounded spires of broken glass through them, but she had to keep them open. Even a madwoman had to keep her eyes open to hallucinate. _I must be mad, _she thought. _Seeing ghosts like this. I'm crazy. _For some reason, the thought amused her. A strange gurgle escaped her throat, a failed attempt at a laugh. _I'm actually crazy. Who knew? _

Mai's face continued to shift and change. Freckles appeared along her cheeks. Her skin darkened several shades, obtaining a healthy tan. Her hair changed, the bun disappearing as black hair fell across her new face. And suddenly, it wasn't Mai standing there, but the handmaid Azula had torched so long ago.

"You don't remember me," the girl said, regarding her with dark, sorrowful eyes.

_No, _Azula tried to say. The word never crossed her lips.

The girl sniffed, as if on the verge of crying. Azula regarded the waif, a strange flutter bouncing around in her chest. "You burned me to death because I called you 'Azula' instead of 'princess.' Don't you remember that?"

The memory cleared a little. Yes, that had been the trigger. The unintentional display of disrespect. It seemed so insignificant now.

The girl nodded. "Lady Tazia had been teaching me how to be a good handmaid," she said, bowing her head. "I was still learning the proper way of serving tea. My tongue slipped. That was all."

Azula started a bit at Tazia's name. Tazia, her senior handmaid, the woman who had served her mother, then her. Tazia, who had been beheaded in the throne room at her father's command. She remembered seeing the head roll out of the throne room, stopping inches from her feet.

Yet still, she couldn't remember this girl's name. Azula tried to sigh, but her body didn't respond. Her lungs refused to work. _How annoying, _she thought, as black dots danced in her field of vision.

"I guess a servant's name wouldn't be important to you," the girl said. The words weren't an accusation, not precisely, but they hinted at something else. Disappointment? Resignation?

_No, _Azula thought, fighting the shadows trying to consume her. _I have to remember. I can't leave this one thing unfinished. I never leave anything unfinished. _Desperately, she shoved against the pressure on her body, trying to lift it. Her limbs didn't respond.

"Do you really want to know?" the girl asked. "I can tell you my name, if you want."

_Don't you understand? I need to remember on my own. I've always done everything on my own. I killed my father. I killed Mai. I killed you, whoever you are. _I _did all those things. _I _am the ruler of the Fire Nation. I . . . _The thoughts faded away, harder and harder to maintain with each passing second.

"It's almost time," the girl said, folding her hands in front of her body. "If you want to say goodbye to anyone else, you should try to do it now."

_No. I don't take orders. I don't need anyone. I don't . . ._

_ I should have apologized. _The thought came to her suddenly, a stab of insight that, had she been more focused, she'd have shoved aside. Princesses didn't apologize. Princesses did whatever they wanted. And being the current Fire Lady, she had even more freedom. She didn't need to apologize to some worthless peasant.

Above her, Zuko spoke. "Azula, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." His hands folded around hers, a warm, almost unnoticeable pressure.

_He shouldn't be apologizing to me. He won. Why should he apologize for winning? _If she'd been able to move her lips, she'd have frowned. As it was, she only imagined frowning. _It's because he's a sentimental fool. He doesn't know how to be ruthless. _

"Princess?" the girl said, voice soft. "Can I ask you something?"

Considering she couldn't move her lips to refuse, she supposed she couldn't stop the girl either way.

"Prince Zuko . . . Is he a good person?"

_What a strange question. Is he? _Another imagined frown. She supposed Zuko qualified as _good. _He'd spent his childhood feeding turtleducks, after all. And even now, he was apologizing, holding her hand as reality retreated farther and farther from her mind. But being kind and being powerful required two vastly different personalities. Kindness. Generosity. Mercy. _I've never had any of those things, _Azula thought. _Does that make me a bad person? Am I a monster, just like mother said? _Her chest tightened a little.

"I don't think you're a bad person," the girl murmured. "I think no one ever taught you how to be kind. I think all you ever learned was how to be cruel."

_Cruel. A monster. Is that all I am? _

Zuko clutched her hand tighter, still sobbing. A memory from their childhood rushed back to her. She'd stood outside the palace music room one day, having followed Zuko to spy on him. She'd peered around the doorframe, listening to Tsungi Horn music as it drifted through the corridor, and seen Uncle hovering just behind Zuko, a warm smile on his lips. When the song concluded, the old man laid a hand on Zuko's shoulder. "Well done," he'd said, though the music hadn't sounded particularly good to Azula's ears.

And Zuko had beamed at their uncle, as if that little flicker of approval had meant everything in the world to him.

_Zuko was loved, _she realized. _By mother. By Uncle. Even by Mai. Zuko was loved, and I was feared. _Her chest ached, but whether it was from her injuries or from something else, she didn't know. Above her, Zuko kept sobbing. _But how can anyone love someone who cries? How can the people of the Fire Nation love someone so weak? Is it _because _he's kind that they love him? _The ache in her chest intensified. _Could the rest of the Fire Nation love him more than they fear me? _

She opened her eyes a crack. Or, she thought she did. Her vision was so spotty, she couldn't be sure. But the girl she'd burned still stood there, every freckle, every stray hair, every feature visible.

_You feared me, even before that day._

"Yes."

_Why?_

"Because you wanted to be feared."

_What if I want to be forgiven?_

"Then you will be."

The few threads of her mind still clinging to reality slipped just a little farther away. Azula collapsed into her own mind, memories cushioning the fall. Yes, she'd had unfinished business. She didn't leave mysteries behind. She finished what she set out to do.

_I'm sorry . . . _she thought, as Zuko's sobs faded. _I'm sorry __I almost forgot you,__ Ta Min._


	77. Burning Letters

_Author's Notes:_

_And, once again, I find myself needing to apologize for my lack of updates. Honestly, I'm surprised no one's complained yet. You probably should—complaints motivate me to do better. Anyway, while we are nearing the end of this fic, there are definitely a few exciting plot events coming up, so I hope you'll stick with me to the end. Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing._

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-Seven<p>

Lord Shi Huan took the letter from the messenger hawk, glanced at the wax seal, and smirked. "What have you decided to lecture me about now, boy?" he wondered aloud, unrolling the scroll. He sank deeper into his chair, expecting a long-winded explanation of the evils of war.

_Father, _it read, in Zou's neat, deliberate handwriting.

_I wish to apologize for my previous behavior. Though I have spent many months working for the rebellion, I've come to realize that the advancement of our family is necessary for the survival of the Fire Nation._

Shi Huan's smirk wavered. His bastard son had been an ember in his eye ever since the boy's mother had dumped him on the doorstep. The sudden burst of family loyalty felt . . . out of place. Still, he kept reading. The boy's attempts to gain his approval were always good for a laugh, if nothing else.

_The royal siblings will duel in an Agni-Kai later this evening. One will fall. I understand the opportunity this presents for our family, and I hope you will take advantage of it. The royal family is the weakest it has ever been—except for the royal siblings and their uncle, there is no one who can claim the crown. If our family were to strike now, we could use our troops to wipe out the royal house and take control. I know you have many soldiers at your disposal, and though I have not always approved of your methods, I know you will make a more fitting __Fire Lord than any spawn of Ozai's. With the controversy about Princess Azula's ascension and the recent chaos in the Capital City, we have an opportunity to do something grand. I hope you consider it.  
><em>

_With great respect,_

_Zou._

Shi Huan stared at the letter for a long moment. It seemed the boy had finally learned some respect. _Took long enough, _he thought, amused. _But he should have stopped after the apology. _

"Reiah," he called. His eldest daughter strode into the room, hands folded in front of her body, hair pulled back in a neat topknot.

"Yes, Father?" she asked, bowing her head in subservience.

After reading Zou's letter, Reiah's obedience was refreshing. "Take this letter to the sitting room and throw it in the fire," he said, tossing her the scroll. "Your half-brother has come up with another ill-devised scheme to stop the war."

"Understood." She rolled the scroll into a tight cylinder, not bothering to read it. Communicating with a known traitor, family or not, was punishable by death. She went to the door, every step radiating poise, purpose.

"One more thing," Shi Huan added. Reiah glanced back. "If you ever happen to see Zou, give him a message for me. Tell him that a good pet never defies his owner, and that a smart one never comes back without expecting a kick to the ribs."

She nodded once. "As you wish, Father."

He smiled, settled back in his chair, and pulled a piece of parchment from the drawer in the end table. He would write back, he decided, if only to tell his son that his childish ideals meant nothing to him.

* * *

><p>A curious numbness settled over Zuko as he watched his sister die.<p>

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do," one of the Fire Sages said. _Fire __Sage__ Hakko, _he realized, blinking slowly. The old man had been a Fire Sage since long before he'd been born and had worked under both Ozai and Azulon. _And now me, _he thought. _I'm the only one left who could take the throne except Uncle, and he's not here. _

"I see," he said, looking back down at his sister. Body limp in death, she almost looked peaceful. Except for the burns—the burns he'd given her, the burns that swept across her face in ugly red patches, still smoldering like a volcano weeks after an eruption. A distant part of him wondered if he ought to feel sick—didn't people usually get nauseous when faced with a death this brutal? Instead, he felt numb, cold. He stood over Azula's body with a sense of duty, knowing he'd been responsible for her death.

"Prince Zuko, we must decide what we are going to do next," Fire Sage Hakko said, crouching down so they were at eye-level. "There is no longer anyone in the royal family with a greater claim—"

"My uncle," Zuko said, standing. His body swayed as if the earth itself was tilting under his feet. "Send a messenger hawk to my uncle. Tell him what's happened here." He hesitated, then squared his shoulders. Whatever else he'd lost, he would maintain his dignity. "Tell him to come as soon as possible."

"The succession—"

"My uncle is ahead of me in the royal succession." _He should have been Fire Lord before my father. _

"Prince Zuko, I do not know if you are aware, but your uncle formally renounced his claim when Ozai stepped up."

"He was grieving." His voice came out sharper than he'd expected. He went with it, knowing that the Fire Sages were probably accustomed to facing the royal family's ire. "If he'll take the position now, it's his."

Hakko hesitated a beat, then bowed his head. "As you wish, Prince Zuko. We will send a hawk right away."

"Good." Zuko turned, walking to the place where he'd left the supplies he'd brought to the plaza. He grabbed his shirt from the pile, then folded up the ceremonial cloth he'd worn in the moments before the Agni-Kai.

One of the other Fire Sages approached. Zuko didn't recognize him. "Ah, Prince Zuko . . . If I may ask, where are you going?"

"I came to the city with someone. Now I have to find her." He didn't mention that the person he was looking for belonged to the Southern Water Tribe, or that her absence meant that she was likely in serious danger. Though he felt too numb to care that the Fire Sages would frown on his actions, the logical part of his mind knew there would be enough trouble introducing Katara to the Fire Nation without casting her as a damsel in distress. She was a master waterbender. She could handle danger. He just wanted to be there as backup.

"We can send the royal guard to assist you," the other man said.

"No. I'll go alone."

"But—"

He turned, irritation flaring in his chest. "I've been labeled as a traitor for almost a year now. Not just a banished prince, but a traitor. I will not put myself in a position where I am outnumbered and outmatched. Gather whoever you can find here in the plaza—peasant, noble, foreigner. Also, send word that there will be no attacks tomorrow."

"But the comet—"

"Will cause enough problems without us burning the Earth Kingdom to the ground." He could scarcely imagine the civilian casualties alone. So many firebenders had poor control of their element—a year ago, he'd been just like them, all fire and no restraint. And with the comet magnifying every firebender's abilities a hundredfold, he'd be a fool not to expect problems. "Call off the attacks. Send messenger hawks to all our Generals. There will be no further military action until the comet has passed. After that, either myself or my uncle will give more specific commands on the distribution of troops. Is that clear?"

Stunned, the Fire Sage merely nodded.

"Good. Go about your duties. I will return here when I can." He turned sharply, heading in the direction Katara had taken Appa before the Agni-Kai. _Maybe it was too dangerous for her to stay close, _he thought, a knot forming in his stomach. _Maybe she'll be waiting for me. She's a master waterbender. She can handle anything. _

He tried to remember that. Tried to remember how capable she was. But as he peered through the streets, the knot in his stomach tightened. _She's not here._

He hurried down one of the wider streets, glancing right and left each time he passed one of the alleyways. The only signs of life he saw were the occasional beggar, huddled between crates and trash bins, obviously having given up trying to cajole noblemen to give him money.

Later, he'd add that to the list of things that needed correction in the Fire Nation. Later.

A sudden rumble startled him enough to make him stop in the middle of the street. He looked above, recognizing the familiar growl even as he raised his arms to shield himself. A moment later, Appa swooped down from the sky, landing hard on the cobblestone streets.

Zuko hurried over, laying a hand on the side of the bison's head. Appa laid down, letting out a sound that would have startled Zuko had he not been so accustomed to the bison's behavior. Instead, it sounded like a relieved sigh. "Yeah, it's good to see you, too." He scratched Appa behind the ears, earning a contented grumble. Then he stepped back. "Where's Katara?"

The bison stood, as if coming to attention. Zuko recognized the posture and climbed into the saddle, taking the reins. "I hope you know where you're going," he said, peering down the empty streets. "Yip yip."


	78. Gravity

_Author's Notes:_

_For some reason, this chapter didn't show up right away when I posted it. So I took it down and posted it again. And again. And again, until FFN stopped being bipolar. So, I apologize if you got multiple notifications on the new chapter, but it just wouldn't show up when I posted it, so I've been troubleshooting. Anyway, if you're reading this message now, that means FFN has stopped being bipolar, and we can all get on with our lives. Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-Eight<p>

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Zou paused mid-rant and glanced at her. "What?"

Katara picked at the fraying ropes binding her wrists together. "Just . . . I mean, the whole evil gloating thing is a bit over-the-top, don't you think?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Evil gloating?"

She shrugged, testing the ropes to see if she could slip free._ Still too tight_. "What else do you call it when someone kidnaps you and uses you as _bait_?" She'd tried to keep her tone light, as Sokka might have in a similar situation. Instead, the words sounded almost scolding.

Zou looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "No."

She waited a beat for him to explain, then said, "No, what?"

"No, I don't ever stop talking." He smiled, as if enjoying a private joke. "I took a lot of beatings for it."

Her shoulders slumped. "Oh." _Don't feel bad for him. He kidnapped you. You can't seriously feel _bad_ for him. _"I'm sorry."

"We could get into a long conversation about why Fire Nation men don't make good fathers, but considering that you're halfway done ripping apart those ropes, we probably don't have time."

Her head snapped up and, too late, she controlled the shock on her face.

"I'm a kid, not an idiot," Zou said, losing his smile. "Another ten minutes, and you'll break free of those bindings, use your waterbending to subdue me, and run back into the arms of your beloved prince. Then he'll embrace you and whisper your name, and you'll walk off toward the sunset together." He sat down on one of the crates. "How lucky you are," he said bitterly, "that you have people who love you."

She hesitated, unnerved by the sudden shift in his demeanor.

"Aren't you going to say that I seem unnaturally conflicted? Or jealous? Or indecisive?"

"Well . . ." She trailed off.

Zou sighed. "My father should have been here by now," he whispered, fingers curling and uncurling. "He's an ambitious man. If he was coming, he'd have rallied his troops and stormed the city already. He . . . He'd have come for me."

Katara looked down, at a loss. Yet she kept picking at the ropes, her thumbnail bending backward as she dragged it across the bloody bindings. "There's still time to change your mind. You can untie me. You can redeem yourself." From the things Zuko had said, honor and redemption were major parts of Fire Nation culture. Perhaps if she appealed to those things, she could reason with Zou.

Zou didn't answer, but a moment later, a messenger hawk flew in from the window. He gave it a quick glance, then settled back, staring at the floor. The hawk hopped on the windowsill for a moment, peering at him with beady black eyes. A scroll stuck up from the container on its back.

Katara regarded the hawk for a long moment. _The message has to be for one of us, _she decided. _Otherwise, that hawk would just roost with the rest of the birds in here. _Her eyes flickered to Zou, then back to the hawk. Gradually, still picking at her bindings, she edged closer to the bird. _It could be a message from Zuko. Or Sokka. Or somebody. _

Calmly, Zou walked over and plucked the scroll from the hawk's container. _Damn it, _Katara thought, settling back as Zou studied the message.

"It's from my father," Zou murmured after a moment, shoulders curling inward, as if in expectation of a blow. He broke the wax seal and unraveled the scroll, his movements jerky, his hands trembling.

Katara watched warily from where she sat, wondering what sort of reaction the letter would provoke. When Zou merely stared at it, she asked, "What does it say?"

He flinched, then rolled up the scroll. The edges of the paper blackened, releasing little curls of smoke, but it didn't ignite. "It doesn't matter now," he said, clutching the scroll tight in his hand. "It doesn't matter. It d-doesn't . . ." His breath shook. "I . . ."

The last threads of the rope snapped, letting the bindings fall away.

Katara shoved her pity aside and struck.

* * *

><p>Appa landed just outside the rookery, sending a gust of air up around them as he touched down. Zuko slid off the saddle, legs shaking as he adjusted to solid ground again. Behind him, Appa grumbled, pacing in the street like a father in the maternity ward.<p>

_I hope you know what you're doing, _Zuko thought, sprinting through the doorway and ascending the stone staircase winding around the inside of the tower. His uncle had brought him here when he'd been young, claiming that a prince ought to experience as many unique places as possible. Zuko remembered being frustrated with his uncle's tendency to linger. While he'd wanted to run up the stairs leading to the top of the building, his uncle had explored each unremarkable floor.

_Doesn't matter now, _he reminded himself. _Nothing will matter if I'm too late._

* * *

><p>The letter had evidently distracted Zou enough that he couldn't react. Katara shot to her feet, bending the still-wet blood that had trickled down her wrists, forming a thin blade. It streaked through the air, a blur of red, and sliced Zou's cheek. He dropped the letter at his feet, flames gathering at his fingertips.<p>

Katara raised her arms, fingers splayed, every muscle rigid, and _pushed_. Her pulse pounded in her neck, an odd counterpoint to the pulsing she felt humming beyond her fingertips as she took control of the blood in Zou's body and threw him against the wall. The boy let out a shocked gasp, his black eyes zeroing in on her face.

"Last chance," she said. "Surrender now. I can get Zuko to pardon you for this. We can give you a safe place to stay. We can find people who will help you."

He hesitated, straining against her bloodbending. Gritting her teeth, she increased the pressure, holding him to the wall.

"Listen!" she said. "We can _fix _this! You don't have to fight anymore!"

Resolve hardened the boy's face. "No," he said quietly. "I won't surrender. I'd rather die."

She froze. _He'd rather die? Even now?_ _Even when we're so close to stopping the war?_ "Why?"

"I don't have to answer that," Zou said. "And if you're going to kill me, then do it."

_I can't, _she realized. _He's just a kid. I couldn't even kill Yon Rha, and he was a monster. _Slowly, she lowered her arms, releasing her hold on him. "I won't kill you. That's not what you _do _when you're trying to bring peace."

He stood there for a moment, body shaking with the aftereffects of her bloodbending. "There's no honor in leaving your enemies alive. Not in the Fire Nation."

"We don't have to be enemies."

He looked at her, then away, shoulders slumped. "You're wrong." He crouched down, picking up the scroll he'd dropped. He looked at it for a long moment, his expression mournful. Then he set it down on the windowsill and stared out into the city. "We can't change what we are, only how we act. I will never be able to set my hatred for the royal family aside. I could never live in a world where Ozai's progeny rule the Fire Nation." He laid his hand on the windowsill, his voice softening. "I only wish it could have been different."

"Zou, that's not—_stop_!" she shouted, her hand reaching forward as he leapt up to the windowsill. His eyes flickered to her face for just an instant, glittering with tears.

And then he jumped.

"_No_!" She sprinted to the window, looking out and yanking on him with her bloodbending even as gravity pulled him down. His body jerked in mid-air, his eyes squeezing shut, and she thought she could save him. But the gravity ripped his body out of her range, and he fell, arms spread like wings, eyes closed as if in sleep.

When he hit the ground, his body broke apart, blood splattering the cobblestone streets as the impact snapped his bones. He gave one final jerk, arms shooting up as if reaching toward the sky, then went limp. The scroll he'd abandoned rolled off the windowsill, following him down and landing a few feet from where he lay. Connected to him by bloodbending, she felt the final, pitiful throb of his heart before it stopped. And then felt nothing more.

Katara crumpled to the floor and wept.


	79. Dark Corners and Shadowed Hearts

_Author's Notes:_

_So, there were some issues with the updating system when I posted the previous chapter over a month ago (an inexcusably long time, I know). From the views-per-chapter, it looks like most of you eventually got to read it, but for those of you who may have missed it, you'll want to double-check. It was quite a pivotal chapter (It resolved a major plot line, after all)._

_Apart from that, terribly sorry about the long wait—life, school, and writer's block got in the way, and so I've been slacking a bit on this story. But, on a positive note, we officially passed the 500-review mark, which makes me very happy. You guys have been so amazing, sticking with me all this time. Thankfully, it looks like I'm going to be having more time to write over Spring Break, so hopefully we'll finish this story before summer. But before that, I hope you enjoy this chapter._

* * *

><p>Chapter Seventy-Nine<p>

Zuko found her sobbing in front of a window. "Katara?" he called, running to her side. She lifted her head, eyes glistening with tears.

There was blood on her wrists.

Zuko knelt, taking her hands in his and inspecting the damage. Though most of the blood had dried, he could see the shredded skin of her wrists. He ran his thumb across the edge of the wound. _Rope marks, _he thought, fury sparking in his chest. "Who did this to you?"

"Zou."

He blinked, disarmed. _Zou? But how? He couldn't even beat me in an Agni-Kai—there's no way he'd be able to take down Katara. Unless . . . _His eyes narrowed. "He tricked you."

She nodded. "He betrayed us. I didn't realize until it was too late. Zuko, he—"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it. He's not going to get away with this." He stood, dropping his pack on the ground and opening the top. "Here, I think I have some bandages. Or maybe water would be better." _Of course it would be, _he thought, eyebrows pulling together. _She's a waterbender. _He started searching for his canteen.

"Zuko . . ."

"It's all right. I'm here." His voice broke. _Keep it together.__ You're going to be Fire Lord __soon. __M__uch sooner than you thought. _He inhaled, then exhaled, letting the fire inside him die away, shriveling from an inferno to an ember.

"Zuko, it's Zou. He . . . He . . ."

He lifted his head, alarmed by the tremor in her voice. "What did he do?" _Oh, Agni, what did he _do _to her? _The possibilities flitted through his mind, making his stomach pitch. He'd seen the aftermath of what had happened to Ty Lee—could the same thing have happened to Katara? _I'll kill him, _he thought, hands turning into fists. _Forget justice. Forget having a trial. Next time I see __him__, __he's a dead man__._

"He jumped," Katara whispered. Her hand trembled as she pointed to the window. "The window . . . he got a letter from his father, and then I got free and I threw him against the wall . . . I said I could help him—we could've found help for him, he could have been all right—but h-he, he just jumped out the window, and I couldn't _do _anything, he just kept f-f-falling, and I . . ."

_Oh, _he thought, taking her into his arms to mask his relief. "It's all right."

"I let him fall."

"It's not your fault."

"He just jumped and fell all the way down."

"It's all right." He clutched her tighter, a tremor running through his own body. "We'll work through this."

"I let him fall," she repeated. "I let him fall, I let him—"

"Shh. It's all right."

"I let him fall. I let him die."

* * *

><p>It took fifteen minutes for Katara to calm down enough to walk, and another ten before they started down the rookery's twisting stairwell. Zuko kept his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her close to his body. Every few steps, he glanced over, checking to make sure she hadn't withdrawn into some dark corner of her mind. He knew how easy it was to slip into those shadowed spaces, to shut out the world until all semblance of rationality faded to the background. He'd spent almost three years in that darkness, hunting the Avatar, obsessed with getting his father's approval. <em>None of that did me any good, <em>he thought. _All I did was blind myself to the truth. _

They made it to the bottom floor. Katara leaned into his side, pressing her face against his shoulder. Her fingers closed around his arm. "He'll be out there. Zou, I mean. Outside. On the ground."

"You don't have to look. I'll take you to Appa and send someone to pick him up."

"No," she said, and he was surprised to hear the thread of steel in her voice. "I have to look. I . . . I just have to."

He grimaced. "That . . . doesn't seem like a good idea."

Katara stepped back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She'd healed the shredded skin on her wrist, though she'd stared at the water he'd offered for almost a minute before letting it touch her skin. Yet he could still see the puffiness around her eyes, the thin red lines branching out from her iris. She looked exhausted.

"I can do it." She nodded to herself. "If I don't see him now, as he is, it won't seem right. I should have been able to save him. If I'd practiced more with bloodbending, if I'd been just a few seconds faster, he might not have died. I think if I don't look, _really _look, then I might forget what I have to do, and my inexperience could cost someone else their life."

He hesitated, almost objecting, then forced himself to relax. "I'll be right by your side."

"Thanks, Zuko." She leaned forward, planting a kiss on his cheek.

They circled around the rookery, heading toward the area below the open window. Zou lay in a puddle of blood, arms outstretched like broken wings. From where he stood, Zuko could see the dent in the back of the boy's skull where he'd hit the ground. His legs bent at awkward angles, one foot twisted so it appeared to be facing backward. A glint of white—Zou's tibia—stuck out of his leg, splintered in the middle and glistening with blood.

Katara didn't react, only stared at the body for a long moment. Then she bent down and picked something off the ground. _A scroll? _Zuko thought, peering over her shoulder. The edges of the paper had been blackened, but most of the letter was readable.

_Zou, _it read. _It seems you have finally come to understand respect. It is unfortunate, then, that I must ignore your summons. You see, I have no interest in ousting the royal family. Indeed, if I did, I would have done so by now. You fail to comprehend the extent of your incompetence, and if you wish to redeem yourself, you would be better off stepping into the inferno __instead of__ trying to quench it. _

_ Here's a lesson you never learned, boy: a good beast learns to obey its master, and a smart beast never comes back without expecting a kick to the ribs._

_ —Your father, Shi Huan._

"His own father," Katara murmured, shaking her head.

"This is a brutal country, Katara." Zuko took the scroll in his hands and started rolling it up. "But I'm going to change things."

"_We're _going to change things," she corrected. A ghost of a smile flitted across her face, disappearing in a moment. "It's not going to be easy, though."

"If it was, it would've happened already." He cast one last glance at Zou, struck by the injustice. "It's not right. This shouldn't have happened to him."

Katara looked up. "What do you mean?"

He grimaced. "Behind all that hatred, I think he was just a confused kid. He never really nailed down his purpose in life. His goals changed so quickly, he couldn't make plans to meet them. I think . . ." He hesitated. "I think he was caught between his family and his future. He wanted both. He's . . . like me. Like I was."

Katara studied him for a moment, then took his hand. "No. I don't believe that. You were conflicted, but as soon as you realized you were wrong, you changed. You let go of your hatred to become someone better. Zou never did."

"Still, I think I understand." He clutched the scroll tighter in his hand. "Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if things had turned out differently. If I hadn't sided with you in Ba Sing Se. If I had continued hunting the Avatar even after I realized it was wrong. I wonder if I would've turned out like him." He nodded to Zou. "Or if I would have turned out worse."

"Like Azula?"

"Like my father."

She paused, her ocean-blue eyes focusing on his face. "No," she finally said. "You would never have turned out like Ozai."

The words—and the unassailable sincerity weaving through them—touched his heart. _She really believes that, _he thought. _That I would have been a better man than my father. __She believes it even though I never could. _He blinked, then pulled her close. "I love you."

Her arms circled around his chest, her cheek pressing against the hollow of his throat. A perfect fit. "I love you, too."

They held each other for a few moments more. Then, slowly, he slid away, holding both her hands. "I have to tell you something. I'm not sure how you'll react, but I . . . I can't think of any way of making it easier, so . . ."

She lifted her eyes to his face. "I'm listening."

He held his breath for a moment, then met her gaze. "I killed Azula."

She drew in a sharp breath. "You . . . _killed _her?"

Shame rushed through his body, but he nodded. "I didn't mean to. It happened during the Agni-Kai." He hesitated, then started speaking rapidly. "I thought she was going to dodge, or at least block the attack. The goal of an Agni-Kai is to burn your opponent—if you do, you win—so really, I only needed a glancing blow, but she didn't dodge, and I . . . It was an accident. I mean, it wasn't really, since we were fighting, and I meant to burn her, but I didn't mean to . . . I didn't mean to actually kill her."

Her expression softened. "I see."

"I don't know what to do." It felt good to say it. Felt good to know she heard it, whether or not she could accept it. "And I think I might have just made myself Fire Lord."

She slid away from him, glancing at Zou's broken body. Zuko waited, shoulders tense, for her to speak, for her to accuse him of murdering his sister and walk away for good. _I don't deserve someone like her, _he thought. _How could I have ever believed I did? _

"We were at war," she finally said.

"It doesn't excuse what I did."

"You're right—it doesn't. But we'll get through it." She walked past him, over to where Appa sat on his haunches, and rested her hand on the bison's saddle. "We'll get through it because we have to. We'll get through it because we have no choice."

He nodded, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "I need to get back to the plaza," he said, changing the subject. "The Fire Nation needs someone to watch over it. Even if I'm not the best choice, at least my rule will be better than anarchy."

Katara nodded, her face firming up. She climbed into the saddle and held out one hand. Surprised by the gesture, he took it, hoisting himself onto Appa's back. Katara held his hand a moment more, her palm soft against his callused skin, then squeezed it gently. "You'll be a great Fire Lord," she said. "Zou may not have thought so, but I do. I'll be standing at your side when they put that crown on your head."

"Thank you," he said, hearing the disbelief in his own voice. "That means a lot."

She smiled, her face grim but determined as she took the reins. "All right. Appa, yip yip!"

The bison roared, shooting into the air and flying between two buildings. Above them, stars dotted the murky sky—embers floating over a dark ocean. Zuko looked at Katara, her words echoing in his heart. _We'll get through it. We have to. _


	80. A New Era

Chapter Eighty

_This is is, _Zuko thought as Katara guided Appa down to the ground. He braced himself—not necessary, considering the bison's gentle landing—then turned his attention to the Fire Sages in front of them. They'd taken fighting stances at Appa's appearance, but no one had moved. _I'm their leader now, _Zuko thought. _They won't risk striking me by mistake._

Azula's body had been taken away. Zuko wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Hold your fire!" he ordered, sliding down Appa's side. The Fire Sages lowered their arms, the only evidence of their wariness being the uneasy flicker of their eyes to where Appa stood, staring them down. Zuko glanced at Katara, then motioned for her to descend. She slid down and walked over to his side, head held high.

Fire Sage Hakko spoke first. "Prince . . . Fire Lord Zuko, it is not my place to ask, but I'm afraid I do not understand. Why are you traveling on a flying bison?"

"This bison belongs to the Avatar. And this," he added, stepping closer to Katara, "is my girlfriend."

Hakko's eyebrows rose, his papery skin wrinkling. It took a moment for the news to sink in. "Your . . ."

"She will be treated as an honored guest of the royal family. Let it be known that she is to have anything she desires and will be afforded the finest available guestroom."

"I don't really need anything _that _fancy," she mumbled, taking his hand. Her cocoa-colored skin had taken on the faintest tinge of red.

"I know," he whispered. "But it'll show your status."

"Status? Zuko—"

"Just trust me," he said, squeezing her hand. _This is the best way to protect you until things settle down. _He turned back to the Fire Sages. "Have a separate chamber prepared for me. A royal suite. Far from my father's chambers, if possible."

"Yes, my Lord. We will do so at once."

"One more thing," he added as an afterthought. "Find a comfortable place for Appa. Someplace where there aren't likely to be any firebenders practicing. No shackles, either."

"Yes, my Lord." The Fire Sages hurried off, likely hoping to delegate the task to the appropriate servants. Though he'd essentially assigned them maid's work, he knew that preparing rooms were far below their normal duties. He doubted they even knew where to find washrags.

"What was that all about?" Katara asked when they were out of earshot.

"A show of diplomacy," he explained. "You're a waterbender—there probably hasn't been a waterbender in the palace, for diplomatic purposes, since before I was born, and with the war . . . Well, our countries haven't exactly been close. By making you a guest of honor, I'm implying that any harm that comes to you will be treated as a crime, regardless of the current state of affairs."

"Sounds very . . . political."

He lifted his eyebrow in surprise, then tilted his head back. "Yeah. I guess." He hesitated, suddenly uncertain. "I mean, I was still young when my father banished me, but I studied politics for most of my childhood, so I guess I'm not the least qualified person in the Fire Nation. I mean, I'm sure my uncle would do better, but I don't even know where he is. And my mother . . . She got away from the palace, but I don't know if she's even going to come back this time, and—"

Katara pressed a finger to his lips, stifling the torrent of words. Zuko shut his mouth, face heating up, and Katara leaned forward, brushing her lips against his. "We'll get through this, remember? You'll declare an end to the war and we can start making treaties with the Earth Kingdom and water tribes."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's right." He started to lean forward for another kiss, then jumped back when Fire Sage Hakko's voice spoke behind him.

"The remaining servants are preparing the rooms, my Lord. They will be ready for you within the hour."

"Why so long?" he asked.

Hakko paled. "We are understaffed at the moment. My apologies, Fire Lord Zuko, but our current servants are struggling to keep the palace running, let alone provide extra amenities. Lady Azula banished some and frightened others away."

_Not good, _he thought. "How many are left?"

"Two cooks, three maids, a scribe, and three miscellaneous servants. Most of the royal guards were banished."

"I see," he said, feeling lightheaded. _I've got more fingers than I have servants and the only people who know I've taken the crown are the Fire Sages and Katara. _He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. _How am I supposed to hold the throne like this?_

"My lord, is there anyone you wish to contact?"

"Piandao."

Hakko blinked. "Your old sword teacher?"

"Yes. Tell him I'm in the Capital. Tell him I'd like to appoint him to be one of my advisers, should he accept the position. And bring me paper. I need to contact the Avatar and his friends."

"At once, my Lord."

"And I need to know where my mother is."

Hakko hesitated, edging closer to the palace. "I'm afraid we do not have that information."

"Don't have it or won't share it?" he demanded. Katara laid a hand on his arm, and he forced himself to take a less combative posture.

"We do not know of Lady Ursa's whereabouts. At latest report, she had escaped the island after your sister burned her."

_So they don't know anything more than I do, _Zuko thought, disappointment swelling in his chest. He looked away. "Just get me some paper and a desk," he said, stalking toward the palace. Katara stayed at his side, her presence keeping him from losing his temper. "And the names and locations of my generals and my uncle."

"We do not know General Iroh's location either, my lord."

He inhaled through his teeth, running his hand through his hair. _Don't overreact, _he told himself. _You're Fire Lord now. You can't afford to lose your temper. _

They reached the path leading up to the palace. No guards intercepted them. The barren field around the palace stayed still and silent. Katara took his hand, frowning. "You lived here?"

"It's a lot nicer inside," he said, embarrassed. "And there are gardens out back. Once things settle, I can have some landscapers turn the front part into a garden . . ." He trailed off, imagining fields of flowers instead of barren rocks. _Gardening. How could something so simple change things so drastically? _

"I'd like that," Katara said, smiling as they ascended the stairs leading to the doors. "Maybe we could add some fountains or rock formations to break up the pattern. And you mentioned a turtleduck pond—we could expand that, or add another one out front."

"Yeah, we could." _She's lived such a different life, _he thought. _She sees beauty where I only see emptiness. _He stepped inside, alert but calm. _Maybe that's what I've needed all along. A chance to see things how they _could _be instead of how they are. _He turned to her. "What do you want most in the world right now?"

Her eyelids fluttered with surprise, but she answered without hesitation. "I want the war to be over."

"What else?"

She paused, glancing at Fire Sage Hakko and lowering her voice. "I want you. You and everything that comes with being with you. And I . . ." She slowed, her pace almost meandering now. "I want to create a better world. A world where we can be together, where we can eventually get married and have kids and grow old. I want to make a life here."

_And so do I, _he realized, heart jumping in his throat. The idea—their future—flickered through his mind. Katara's eyes, alight with love. A child with dark skin and golden eyes. A quiet garden where they could sit and hold hands half a century from now, watching their grandchildren play in a meadow. He wanted it all.

"Here is the parchment you requested," Hakko said, breaking his reverie.

Blushing, Zuko took the papers and stepped through a doorway leading to one of many sitting rooms. He sat down at the desk in the corner, picking up a fresh quill. "This is going to take a while," he said to Katara, "but if you want to stay . . ." His blush deepened, but her smile was worth it. She swept over to his side and sat down on one of the chairs.

"I can write Aang and the others, if you want," she offered. He handed her several sheets of parchment, relieved to split the work.

"I'll write the generals." He met her gaze. "The war is over," he said, voice tinged with wonder.

A smile dawned on her face. "Yes. And a new era is beginning. An era of peace."

_Peace, _he thought. _After all this time. _The corner of his lip pulled up into a half-smile. _We did it. _

_We really did it._


	81. Epilogue: One Month Later

Epilogue:

One month later

It had been a long time since he'd worn clothes like this.

"Nervous?" Katara asked, tying the last knot on the front of his robe.

Zuko looked down at the red and gold fabric, a lump rising in his throat. The cloth felt unusually heavy, more like a tarp than a robe. _At least I was smart enough to forgo the armor, _he thought.

"Zuko?"

His head snapped up. "What?"

"You look nervous," Katara said, fingertips trailing across his collar.

He shrugged, hoping the casual gesture would reassure her. "I've screwed up pretty much every speech I've ever made. At least no one will be surprised when I screw this one up, too."

She laughed. "You won't screw it up. You've been practicing for days."

"I'm sure the people will forgive you even if you ruin it," another voice said from behind him. He glanced back to see the Avatar lounging in one of the waiting chairs, wearing what Zuko assumed to be formal garb among the air nomads. A wooden necklace with swirling circular charms hung from his neck, a symbol of his people. "They're all really glad the war is over. Don't even worry about messing up."

"Thanks," Zuko muttered. "That's so encouraging." He ran his fingers across the front of his robe, feeling the little bulge in his pocket. _I'm bound to ruin one of today's speeches, _he thought. _But which one? _

"It is time" his uncle said, rising from his chair. Zuko's mother stood just behind him, her smile as warm as a summer breeze. It felt right to finally have her here, though her presence wasn't required.

Zuko faced the balcony and started forward. _Here we go_

A crowd of people stood in the plaza below, delineated by nation. He saw representatives from the Earth Kingdom, the water tribes, and the Fire Nation, as well as citizens from borderlands and undefined territories. _All those people, _he thought, feeling a stab of nervousness. Only the knowledge that everybody who mattered was down there watching or waiting at his back kept him from running back inside. _Just make the speech, _he told himself. _Don't even think about what you're saying—just do it like you practiced. _

He stepped forward, resting his hands on the balcony's guardrails as he addressed the people. He paused a moment, glancing to where Katara stood. The object in his pocket seemed to grow heavier.

He opened his mouth, letting the words flow without thinking about them. Words of peace. Words of cooperation and goodwill. The crowd responded, people leaning forward, entranced by his speech. His voice sounded confident and controlled, though his mind kept drifting. He'd spent hours crafting, memorizing, and refining the words. And once he finished the speech, he remembered none of them.

"All hail Fire Lord Zuko!" Fire Sage Hakko shouted, placing a crown over his topknot. Zuko bowed his head as he felt the weight of the crown press down on his scalp. _So this is how it starts, _he thought. _Who knew? I'm actually getting more support than my father did. _For years, his father had seemed like the ideal Fire Lord, ruthless and cunning. Yet while Ozai had drawn much larger crowds, he had never drawn such enthusiastic applause from the people who came to see him. _The Fire Nation doesn't need a ruthless leader, _he thought. _They need someone who will stand for peace. They need me._

The cheers went on for several minutes, until he wondered how they could possibly stay that loud without losing their voices. When Aang stepped up to add his support, their cheers grew even louder. _The world is changing, _Zuko thought. _And we're changing with it. _

Finally, the cheers abated enough for him to justify leaving. He maintained a dignified walk until he was out of sight, then let out a relieved sigh. His mother hurried over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I am so proud of you, my son."

He hugged her back. She'd returned a few days after the comet had passed (without any fire or bloodshed, thanks to the letters he'd penned to the Generals) and he'd made a point to spend time with her every day since. Though he'd yearned to see her after she'd left, he hadn't realized how much he'd missed her until they'd finally gotten to meet again. He'd also spent plenty of time with his uncle, though much of that had revolved around politics. Despite minimal involvement in lawmaking, Iroh had decades of training in such matters.

"We are all proud, Nephew," he said, laying a hand on Zuko's shoulder. Pride flared in his chest, and his lips curved into a smile. "You will be a great leader. Now . . ." Iroh grinned, clapping his hands together. "It is time for some tea."

"Uh, actually, I was going to . . . Um." He glanced at Katara and saw the flash of surprise in her eyes.

His uncle smiled knowingly. "Ah, I see. Well, do not let this old man spoil your fun."

Zuko felt his cheeks warming. "Uh . . . yeah. Sure. I was just going to get something to eat downstairs." He edged toward the door, casting a meaningful look at Katara. She followed him out the door, letting the back of her hand brush over his knuckles.

"They've figured it out," she said when the door closed behind them.

"Yeah, I guess. It's hard to keep secrets from my uncle." He paused, then changed the subject. "What did you think of the speech?"

"It was perfect. I told you it would be." Her fingers slipped into his grasp, and they slowed, cherishing the moment of solitude. Between stopping a war and organizing diplomatic meetings, they'd had few opportunities to just be together.

"I've been wanting to ask you something," he began, resisting the impulse to run his fingers along his pocket. Katara looked at him curiously. He hesitated, trying to remember the rest of what he'd wanted to say.

"Yes?" Katara pressed.

"Um . . . I just wanted you to know that you're the kindest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I mean, not that I've really met a lot of women. Or, I guess I have, but I haven't really _known _a lot of women, so . . ." _Focus, _he told himself, breathing deeply. "So I wanted to ask . . ."

She leaned forward, her eyes widening. "You wanted to ask . . . ?"

He reached up and pulled the object from his pocket. "Will you marry me?"

She stared at the necklace dangling from his fingers, examining the intricate swirls he'd carved into it. She reached out, cradling the pendant in her palms like a baby bird. "You . . . made this?"

He nodded, abashed. "I know there are probably much better carvers, but I've been doing some reading, and I know that, traditionally, a man carves the engagement necklace himself, so . . . yeah. I practiced first. I made almost a dozen of these before I finished this one, but I can keep working on it if—"

"I love it."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

She laughed, arms wrapping around his shoulders. "It's the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen." She tilted her head back, pressing her lips firmly against his. "It's amazing. You're amazing."

"Is that a yes?"

Another laugh. Her embrace tightened. "Of course that's a yes! I told you I wanted to grow old with you." Her smile softened. "I wouldn't have said that if I hadn't meant it." She looked up. "So when's the wedding?"

"I can have the event planners set it up whenever you want."

She pursed her lips. "How about tonight?"

"Tonight?" he squeaked.

She nodded. "I don't want to wait anymore. It doesn't need to be extravagant. I grew up on the South Pole—our weddings were simple. Most of them took less than an hour."

He felt himself smiling. "All right. Tonight, then."

* * *

><p>Seven hours later, Katara studied herself in the mirror. A blue dress cascaded down her body like a waterfall, shifting whenever she moved. A gold ribbon wound around her waist, a Fire Nation color to complement her water tribe preferences. Ty Lee hovered over her, pinning her hair up. "Do you want to keep the loops, or should we do something else?" she asked, armed with several bobby pins.<p>

"Keep the loops," Katara said. "And tie them back into a braid."

Ty Lee set to work, seeming pleased. She'd changed drastically from the girl they'd freed from the prison. Her hair had grown out, and she'd regained some of her usual cheer in the past month. "This is so exciting," she gushed, fingers moving nimbly through Katara's hair. "I can't believe you're getting _married_, but at the same time, it's so _you_." She grinned, then immediately launched into a new topic. "I don't think you'll need much makeup. Maybe a little eyeshadow, but nothing major. You have such lovely skin."

"Thank you."

"I wish Mai could be here," Ty Lee said, her voice losing some of its cheer. "She'd never have admitted it, but she really liked giving makeovers. She and I used to do Azula's makeup all the time when we were younger." She smiled sadly, but lapsed back into joy a moment later. "But now I get to do your hair and makeup all by myself." She finished twisting the braid together, then tied it off with a piece of blue thread. "There. Have a look."

Katara turned toward the mirror, then gasped, lifting a hand to her head. The hairstyle was simple but elegant, similar to the style she'd worn in the South Pole, but more mature and regal, the braid pulling everything back into a sort of hybrid between Fire Nation and water tribe styles. "It's perfect."

"Great. Now for makeup." Ty Lee grabbed some products from the countertop and started smearing them on her face with practiced movements. "You'll be the most beautiful woman in the Fire Nation when I'm done."

Katara said nothing, keeping her face still while Ty Lee worked. The quiet gave her mind a chance to wander.

She hadn't told her father yet. Though he'd assured her he'd accept any man she chose to marry, he'd probably assumed her pickings would be limited to someone in the water tribes, or perhaps the Earth Kingdom. He certainly wouldn't have expected her to get married to the Fire Lord a month after the end of the war. A year ago, she'd have scoffed at the idea herself.

Then again, a year ago, a very different man had sat on the throne.

For now, it seemed like a better idea to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission. So she'd sworn Sokka to secrecy and kept the news limited to her friends. The palace scribe would be recording the whole thing, of course, but Zuko had assured her that was part of his duty. She'd do whatever it took to keep people from denying their marriage. Having one of the witnesses be a palace official would be the easiest step.

* * *

><p>Half an hour later, Ty Lee led Katara to a crescent-shaped arrangement of kindling in the royal garden. Zuko had warned her about the traditions of Fire Nation weddings, but it still alarmed her when, after stepping inside the crescent, one of the servants lit the branches afire. Ty Lee gave her one last smile, then hurried into the audience, sitting in the second row. Sokka and Suki sat in front, waving as she met their eyes. Sokka looked a bit tense, and Katara guessed it had something to do with Suki's gentle teasing. The Kyoshi warrior was prodding him about when they could hold <em>their <em>wedding.

Aang and Toph sat next to each other in the front row, talking animatedly. It surprised her a bit to see Aang looking so relaxed—she'd always suspected he'd had a crush on her, and though he hadn't reacted negatively when she'd told him about her relationship with Zuko, she'd worried about the wedding upsetting him. Yet Aang seemed in control, even happy.

Others had gathered, mostly casual friends who had been close to the Capital. A few others—servants and noblemen she didn't recognize—sat near the back. _Probably friends of Zuko's, _she thought, smiling at them. A few had the grace to smile back, but most of them avoided her gaze. _Well, you can't make the world whole again in one night, _she thought. _But we've got representatives from all four nations. That's got to be a good sign. _

A small band started playing music at the edge of the garden, announcing Zuko's arrival. He wore deep crimson robes, his crown glinting in the sunset. Katara focused on him only for a moment, her attention drawn away by a man in a deep blue tunic. Her heart jumped as she recognized him. _Dad? _

Her father met her gaze. He stopped mid-step, his stare piercing. Katara's heart started thumping harder; she looked to Sokka, saw that he'd noticed their father's entrance. When Sokka turned back toward the flaming crescent, he had trouble meeting her eyes. _Oh, you are so dead when this is over, _she thought.

Her father sighed audibly, and Katara turned her attention back to him, her expression caught between a plea and an apology. After a moment, he sat down in the back row, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

As soon as her father sat, Zuko started walking toward the crescent. Her heart accelerated again, this time for a different reason. One of the Fire Sages followed, carrying a tiny white book. Katara recognized him as Fire Sage Hakko.

"We have gathered here today to witness the union of Fire Lord Zuko and Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," Hakko began, smiling faintly as he opened his book. He spoke for a few minutes about the symbolism of the marriage and its anticipated effects, but she barely heard any of it, her gaze focused on Zuko's face. The sunset touched his eyes, deepening the gold to amber, and in that moment, he looked as if he'd taken a piece of that sunset inside himself, acquiring a faint radiance. He was, despite the scar, the most handsome man she'd ever known. _And he's mine now. We can finally be together. _

"Fire Lord Zuko, you may present your gift," Hakko said. Zuko pulled her engagement necklace—now suspended on a white ribbon instead of a blue one, symbolizing her change from being engaged to being married—and fastened it around her neck. The charm fell just above her collarbone.

"And you, Lady Katara, may kiss your groom," Hakko said. Katara leaned forward, pressing her lips to Zuko's. Pleasure rushed through her body, as pure and warm as morning sunlight.

"I love you," she whispered. "Always."

"I love you, too," he said. "Always."

Their small audience erupted into cheers, and even her father applauded politely from the back row, despite his brittle expression. Zuko took her hand, extinguishing the circle of fire with a wave of his hand. Servants rushed in to clean up the ashes.

Katara took Zuko's hand. "I think we're going to have to explain this to my Dad."

Alarm flashed across Zuko's face. "Now?"

She saw her father rising from his chair. "Yes. Now." She pulled Zuko along, gripping his hand even tighter as her father walked over to meet them.

"Katara," he said, nodding stiffly. "You didn't tell me you were seeing someone."

She smiled, trying to conceal the anxiety churning away under her ribs. "Yes, well . . . How did you find us?"

Her father raised an eyebrow. "Your brother is a good man, but he's not good at keeping secrets."

_Oh, he's definitely dead when this is over. _"Oh."

"Perhaps we should speak privately."

She fidgeted. "Right. Sure. Um, Zuko, could you—"

"Of course," he said, bowing to her father before looking at her. "I should probably speak to my cousins anyway. I'm sure they're curious." He edged away, as if waiting for permission, then turned and hurried toward the group of nobles on the other side of the audience.

Katara turned to her father, bracing herself for the inevitable lecture. "I'm sorry. I should have told you before, but I thought you'd try to stop us."

He laid a hand on her shoulder, closing her eyes. "I'm disappointed," he said. Katara wilted. "But as it happens, I approve."

She jumped. "_Really_?"

He inclined his head toward Zuko. "He may be Fire Nation, but I've seen what he's done to make this world better. He keeps his promises, and he's shown himself to be a fine warrior. If he'd been from either of the water tribes, I'd have had no reservations about this."

She winced, but didn't argue.

Her father sighed. "He honored water tribe traditions. The necklace. I wouldn't have expected that of him."

"He wants me to be happy."

"I know that." He looked away. "I know that. And I know you've grown a lot since I left the tribe. But you're awfully young to be getting married. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

He paused, considering that. After a moment he nodded. "Then I trust your judgment. But you know, if you ever change your mind, I'm sure we could—"

"Dad. I'm not changing my mind."

He stepped forward, his arms circling around her shoulders. "Just remember you always have a place to come home to if you need it," her father said. "And come visit sometimes. Your life is going to be busy, but you've still got a family."

"I know." She smiled, glancing at Sokka. He grinned sheepishly, edging closer to Suki. Ty Lee bounded over to chat with him, sporting a comically short braid.

"Go on now," her father said, his eyes tight with tension. "I don't want to keep you from your husband on your wedding day."

"Thanks, Dad." She slipped away, hurrying over to Zuko as he split off from his cousins. She studied them for a moment, wondering which would have taken the throne if he'd refused it. And then he looked at her, and nothing mattered anymore.

"Shall I have the servants bring people to the reception?" he asked, taking her hands.

"I have a better idea." She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his and wrapping her arms around his torso. "Why don't we just skip straight to the honeymoon?"

His eyes lit up. "I don't think we're allowed to do that."

"You're the Fire Lord now. You can do whatever you want."

"Tempting. Very tempting." He kissed her again. "But you don't really want to skip the reception."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because," He pulled her close again, but rather than amused, his voice became serious. "We live demanding lives. I want to spend every moment I can by your side. I figure that if we go to the reception, I get to spend that much more time with you."

"All right. But if we're going to the reception, you're going to dance with me."

"Dance?"

She nodded, grinning. "If we're going to make a compromise, I'm getting my cut," she said, tracing the edge of his scar with her fingertip. "That's basic politics, right?"

"True." He kissed her again. "But this isn't a political marriage."

"It doesn't change the fact that people will see it that way."

"No, it doesn't." He paused. "But we'll always know we married for love, not convenience. And I think that's the most important thing."

"I think so, too. Now," she said, taking his hand and pulling him toward an empty space in the garden, "let's dance."

—end—

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes:<em>

_So that's the end, everyone! It's been a great ride, and I hope you enjoyed this story. Writing the sequel was a lot more labor-intensive than writing the first part, but I think it was worth it. I stumbled in places (as many of you pointed out), but in the end, things turned out all right. Anyway, feel free to leave comments. I always read new comments, no matter how long it's been since I've finished a piece. And thanks to everyone who stuck with me through all the infrequent updates and flaws._


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